


Trickster

by Sekrap



Series: Dimension Reinvention [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: All Hermits - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Cyborg Iskall, Demon Tango, Dissapearances, Domesticated Creeper Doc, Druid Stress, Dysfunctional Family, Evil Xisuma - Freeform, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Kidnapping, Lore - Freeform, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Permadeath, Prophetic Visions, Redstone (Minecraft), References to Canon Complacency, References to PermaDeath, Set at the beginning of Season 7, The Deep End, The End (Minecraft), The Hermits Are A Big Happy Family, The Watchers - Freeform, Trying to Write In Character, Voidkind Xisuma, Watcher Grian, Winged Grian, Wizard Scar, Worldbuilding, epic fight scene, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 67,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23074765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sekrap/pseuds/Sekrap
Summary: After the Trickster of the world goes missing, the Hermits must hurry to find their friend with only a new wizard, a very tired admin, and a thinly veiled threat to guide them.This is my take on the Watcher Universe! While I love our Gremlin Man Grian, I want to explore how other hermits use magic and interact with the Watchers. I have no idea how long this story will be, but let's find out together!
Series: Dimension Reinvention [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686619
Comments: 372
Kudos: 593





	1. Chapter One

_“There is no where for you to go, Trickster.”_

Grian flinched so hard he woke up. The thick humid air of the jungle during rain filled his hobbit hole. It swam with the heady smell of the fresh wood of his walls and made the Hermit dizzy as he stared at his ceiling. Grian caught his breath as the faces from his dream melted into the haze at the edge of his vision, watching but not interacting. When he blinked, the long shadows were gone, a trick of swaying torch light.

Rain whispered outside, siren songs falling flat on the ground and sinking deep into the earth. Grian rolled out of bed and blearily stumbled towards his front door. When his feet entered the mud with the rain, he released a heavy sigh and tilted back his head. The rain soaked his hair, his clothes, and made him sticky, but he stayed, enjoying the cooling sensation of the rain on his feverish skin. The clouds made it dark, but Grian was certain it was still late at night. The jungle was still, no sounds of Scar’s newfound magic or Mumbo’s newest redstone project. There wasn’t even a groan of a zombie of the paw steps of an ocelot. It was pure in utter silent bliss.

The Hermit took the chance to spread his wings.

Often, they were hidden. The magic bestowed upon him what felt like a millennia ago was powerful, a drop of it could easily hide the pale gold feathers of his wings. It became uncomfortable after awhile, as holding any limb in one steady place for extended periods of time may be, and stretching out in the first rains of the new world felt _glorious._

The tips of his right wing brushed something nearby. When it snapped back to his body, Grian saw only a long pole of bamboo gently swaying. Something itched between his feathers. Thinking it was only rain and a lack of preening, Grian sat down on the muddy earth and began pulling bent and fallen feathers from where they had been lodged for far too long. It took a long time, straightening each and every feather after letting them twist and grind for so long, but when he was finished Grian only felt more relaxed.

The rain slowed to a drizzle. The heat of the jungle swallowed Grian and the cold water on his skin sizzled against the fever under his skin. The Hermit went back inside and changed into dry clothes. He changed the sweaty sheets of his bed (many of which had been kicked clear off) and laid back down to sleep. He had just finished building the tunnel between he and Mumbo’s bases that afternoon and his body felt dead with sleep. With more plans for tomorrow, Grian couldn’t lose sleep staring at the darkness around his hobbit hole all night.

He went to sleep.

_Beautiful, high whistling filled the air. Something sweet filled his mouth, leaving sugar on his tongue. The whistling became closer, and in the confusing hallways around Grian, it seemed to spin. The sugar on his tongue was beginning to burn, becoming sour and filling his mouth with bitterness._

_The whistling slowed to a stop on a clear, wavering note. The endless hallways Grian found himself wandering down shook with the beautiful dying sound. A hand clamped around his shoulder and pulled. The ground fell beneath Grian with the click of a tripwire and he screamed, nothing but a tart sweet berry coming from his mouth in the place of sound._

He fully launched himself from bed this time. Heaving and delirious, Grian found a mundane potion (he was trying to better his brewing skills and was yet to find proper ingredients) and swallowed it. It was not water, and had no healing effects on his panicking, hiccupping body, but it was _something_ to take the sharp, bitter taste from his mouth.

Grian refused to panic any more then, getting a hold of himself and leaning heavily on the wall. He had work to do. He didn’t have time for this.

Concealing his wings as he did every day, checking his inventory, and stepping into the mud now with shoes, Grian trekked through the jungle to collect more resources for his newest redstone project. He was slowly but surely getting better and better at the strange substance. It was a good feeling to have control over magic that was his own, not something put onto him.

The buzzing of the heavy sun turned into the humming of something else. There was a soft _thunk_ sound so close to his head Grian ducked. When he stood, he saw a spectral arrow stopped in the air, it’s pinprick sharp point a good few inches from the bamboo it was meant to be nestled in. When Grian peered through the trees, he saw nothing. When he looked back to the arrow, it was gone.

He was just tired, Grian told himself, and continued his walk thinking about other, more important things then a mysterious arrow.

The sun beat down on the jungle, proud and bright, and Grian enjoyed it as much as he did the rain. The earthy smell of rain was replaced by the bright smell of plants drinking up sunshine. Grian was able to stop thinking about his worrying dreams and instead start bringing down spruce trees as he intended. The edge of the forest had already been felled for his tunnel, leaving the thick brambles of the inner trees. Several times his thick jean legs became entangled in sweet berry bushes and Grian had to be thankful they didn’t prick him.

Grian did not think of eating a sweet berry. He stomped on a cluster and continued felling trees.

A fox jumped through the bushes in the distance. Grian did not flinch. The fox came closer, and as it came closer, it sounded bigger. Grian pulled himself away from his spruce tree to glare at the forest’s horizon for the offending creature, axe heavy in his hands.

“Oh,” said a heavenly voice behind him. “I thought we had gotten past this.”

Blood nothing but ice in his veins, Grian whirled and brought down his axe. It bit into the earth, leaving an ugly gouge, and a hand rested on his shoulder to pull him up. Snarling, Grian shrugged it off and swung his axe through the air to that side, the momentum pulling him into a targetless swing until he lost his balance and toppled.

Sprawled on his back on the ground, Grian watched as a familiar being loomed over him, galaxy-endless face blinking at him in the terms of shooting stars. The Watcher smiled, long fangs unsheathing from the matter of their face and into Grian’s world. Under their magic, Grian felt his wings forcibly being brought out of their hiding, sprawled uselessly with the rest of him.

The Watcher was a tall, mostly shapeless in a position like this, creature of endless black matter littered with stars and super novas and black holes. The world attempted to warp around them before being rejected, only to be sucked back in. It made Grian very dizzy. An arm that had been hidden by the void of the Watcher’s torso reached out, hand giant and clawed, to cup Grian’s face. “Dearest Trickster, we all know you are so much better at running than fighting.”

Grian disappeared. The Watcher grins. “Wondering where he’s gone, aren’t you?” They ask, stars falling through their face like a poor actor’s tears. They too vanished.

It wasn’t long for someone to notice the Trickster missing. “Grian! Mate! I had to ask if you had any more of the quartz laying around!” Mumbo shouted into Grian’s hobbit hole. He climbed out of his minecart and wandered through Grian’s base, shaking the redstone from his shoes as he wandered through the cozy rooms. There was no sight of his hobbit friend and Mumbo scowled, looking at the small storage system Grian had tried so hard to preserve. Already, random chests had taken place before the organized ones, and upon opening the first one Mumbo found it half full of quartz crystals. The redstoner shoved a handful into his pocket and left a sign before disappearing back down the tunnel.

After taking something from Grian, anyone would expect retaliation, especially Mumbo. He waited all day for a cart to fall through the ceiling, full of pufferfish or cursed dirt that would haunt him for the rest of his life or a note expecting diamonds in return. There was nothing. At first, Mumbo was chuffed to bits. When the next day came about, he began to worry.

_MumboJumbo: Has anyone see Grian?_

_VintageBeef: Aren’t you his neighbor?_

_JoeHills: Can anyone truly see?_

_Xisumaviod: Not for a few days, is everything alright Mumbo?_

_Iskall85: Nothing here._

_Docm77: I was fetching some foxes from the spruce forest yesterday and saw him resource gathering. That’s all I know. Shouldn’t he have his communicator on him?_

It was a general rule Hermits had their communicators on them at all times after one time Stress got hers frozen in the ice for an entire winter and everyone thought she was dead until Iskall sailed all the way to his starter base and found her inside a giant castle.

Mumbo knew Grian to be a hard worker, one who didn’t stop until a task was complete, and immediately began towards the spruce forest in search for his friend. He expected to find Grian asleep propped up against a tree or wrestling a fox into a makeshift lead. All he found was an axe, purple particles that looked a lot like red(purple?)stone, and a half chopped down tree surrounded by what looked like a melted forest.

_MumboJumbo: X come to the spruce forest_

_Xisumavoid: On my way_

Mumbo jumped when the admin materialized next to him. Both of their communicators began beeping as other hermits tried to find out what was wrong. Xisuma pressed a button on his helmet to silence his and Mumbo turned off his whole machine. The admin looked around the forest with a set frown. The wood of the trees looked like they had melted into themselves, not burnt. The ground appeared below them in waves, not the flat, knarled earth of a forest. Where Xisuma stood, it felt like the world leaned on him, and the admin noticed he stood in a small crater.

“Here,” Mumbo said, crouching next to what he deemed purplestone. He reached out to it but didn’t touch the stuff. “do you know what this is?”

The Voidkind with him walked over. Xisuma took off his helmet and ran the pad of his pointer finger along the top of the dust. Mumbo watched incredulously as Xisuma licked it off his finger and put his helmet back on to mull over the results.

“I have good news and bad news.” Said Xisuma. “This is strong teleportation magic. The stuff endermen use. But there’s so much- whatever moved was big.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you mate I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“Whatever moved came from, and probably went back to, The End.” The visor of Xisuma’s helmet went dark in a flurry of ones and zeroes. When they cleared in a similar fashion, Xisuma looked grim. “It took a Hermit with it. I’m guessing Grian.”

“Cool, cool,” Said Mumbo, mostly referring to the cold dread settling in his stomach. “… what do we do?”

_Xisumavoid: Scar, come to the spruce forest please._

_FalseSymmetry: What’s going on?_

_Cubfan135: What does Scar have to do with it?_

_ImpulseSV: Is everything okay?_

_Xisumavoid: Everyone just carry on as normal. Everything is fine, I promise :)_

_Xisumavoid: Scar, soon, please._

“You just outright lied to them then.” Mumbo said, looking down at his communicator as he scrolled through the earlier flurry of worried messages.

Xisuma sighed and nodded. “Sometimes you have to.”

“On an average how many times a day do you lie to us?” Mumbo asked lightheartedly.

The admin only smiled. Seeing a certain pantless wizard out of the corner of his eye, Xisuma turned. “Scar! Amazing. You’ve been practicing your magic, yes?”

Scar grinned. “Finally, someone noticed! Why _yes_ , I _have,_ thank you. What can I do for you? I’m very good at making parrots disappear. And killing plants. I am the best at killing plants. Also making tiny snails giant and getting him stuck on a beach but it’s okay because his shell is a very cozy house.”

“How good are you at sensing other magic?” Xisuma asked, drawing Scar closer. It was then the wizard realized the stage of the forest around them. At first, he thought the lean was centered on Xisuma, but when the admin moved the forest remained bent over that one crater. Scar saw the abandoned axe and the signs of struggle and the weird melting trees and gulped. “I try valiantly.” He said.

“What do you see here?” Mumbo asked, getting a pointed (yet somehow soft) look from Xisuma.

Suddenly making himself small under the scrutiny of his admin and a very worried friend, Scar chewed on his lip. “Well, I, I see teleportation magic, like a stronger version of what I use on the parrots but, but I don’t _see_ anything else.”

“What do you feel, Scar.” Asked Xisuma.

The wizard swallowed again and nervously laughed, stepping into the crater where Xisuma once stood. The Vex magic that had flowed through him in the last world was mostly gone now, replaced by his own, but even it’s final drops reared inside of him and burned under his skin, screams of the Vex ringing loud in his ears. Scar leapt from the crater, feeling dark, heavy magic crawling up his arms and settling on his shoulders like a hand. Searching for balance, Scar leaned on a tree, but the warped bark shocked him. The wizard jumped away from the cursed chunk of forest, something bitter dancing on his tongue like lightning.

“Bad,” He said, digging his nails into his arms to stop the slimy feeling taking over his body. “I feel something very bad.”


	2. Chapter Two

Cub had been scowling at his communicator for a while now. The panic of the Hermits went quiet with reassurances from Xisuma, but Cub couldn’t settle the feeling of something wrong in his stomach. The ConCorp representative hadn’t seen much of his business partner in the new world, crediting to the rush for resources everyone felt in the first few weeks, but after the mysterious messages about the spruce forest somehow involving Scar, Cub felt the need to check on his friend.

He was regretting that decision half way through the jungle, but his friendship prevailed over his aching feet and confused sense of direction.

Finally he met a clearing, seeing an expansive but shallow lake and a very large snail. It rose it’s withered body to observe the newcomer, lopsided eyes blinking one at a time and it’s coal mustache swaying with it’s movement. Cub snorted and edged along the shore of the lake, too bothered already to tromp through it, before approaching the snail. When it looked at him, it seamed indifferent, and leaned over to chew on Scar’s crops again.

Ah, thought Cub, the crop bandit has been found.

Inside the shell of the beast was a clang. Cub arched an eyebrow at the strangely spherical shell and walked around the snail, finding the rope ladder to climb up. Inside was cozy, which was surprising and not, because it was a snail, but also Scar!

“Oh! Hello!” Scar said, a book splayed open in his hand. Concentration broken, the shovel he was trying to levitate fell with a clang onto the bolted floor. He smiled sheepishly. “I’m just practicing my magic here, Larry is being a good sport with all the noise.”

“Larry?” Cub smiled, walking further into the shell to examine Scar’s meticulous details.

“Uh-huh, Larry the Giant Snail. Has a nice ring to it don’t you think?” He chuckled.

“I oughta say,” Cub leaned on the counter and turned to his friend. “I’m glad to see you’re okay. And this whole magic thing is so far limited to shovels.”

The older man tilted his head, watching keenly as Scar frowned. The builder pulled into himself and put the magic book named _Statues_ down on the counter behind him. Scar crossed his arms, but after moving Cub got a glance at his very strange get up, especially the lack of pants and poorly grown beard. He complimented Scar on it anyways. Scar didn’t even giggle.

“Why are you worried about my magic?” He instead asked.

“Well, I haven’t seen you at all in this world.” Cub frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. He knows that he was doing the whole physical wall that Scar was working with him on but at that time it didn’t seem that Scar noticed it. That was even more concerning. “And then two days ago there was that thing with the spruce forest and X being cryptic in the chat. I’m worried about you man.”

Scar seemed to lighten up at that, shifting foot to foot. “Well I missed you to.” He harrumphed, but Cub saw no venom.

“Would you tell me what’s going on?” Cub asked.

Even though the saw the question coming, Scar floundered. He knew he could trust Cub, Cub was his best friend, but Xisuma said he couldn’t tell anyone about the spruce forest or that Grian was missing. People had begun noticing by now and it wouldn’t be long, but Scar wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening for a little while longer. His mouth open and closed like a fish, and he tried to explain with his hands, but every time he lifted them into the air they fell back to his sides. Scar scrunched his eyes closed in frustrated defeat and the shovel next to Cub raised an inch in his emotional state before falling right back down when the wizard sighed.

Scowling further, Cub used all his might to pull himself away from his interrogation post at the counter and pull Scar into a hug. Cub didn’t know how to feel, worried, scared, annoyed, maybe a little betrayed but he hated that part of him. He pushed it out by hugging Scar tighter.

Scar didn’t want to cry but it just, well, happened. He was scared. He clutched Cub’s coat and cried into his friend’s shoulder, feeling small and unhelpful in their looming situation.

The magic he had felt in that crater was sharp and achingly powerful, striking through him like lightning. As he walked home that day, he tasted something burnt in his mouth and when he looked in a piece of glass, a black streak ran down his tongue. Xisuma had held him by the shoulders, making him promise not to tell a soul what he had seen. The admin added Scar needed to practice more of his magic asap. Mumbo had wavered in the background, looking scared out of his mind, and when Xisuma pulled away from Scar the wizard though he saw something a lot like fear in Xisuma’s eyes too. It had taken two showers and three baths to get the slimy magic residue off of Scar, and he was too scared to throw the offending water into the lake and instead threw it into Grian’s zombie trap before closing it back up. It had not been a good day.

Since then, Scar had stayed up working on his magic. He hadn’t realized two days had passed inside the safety of Larry’s shell, but he must have been working day and night. His magic was rudimentary and most of what he knew he learned from being possessed by the Vex. Handling magic on your own instead of being a divine vessel felt very different and Scar was so less prepared than he thought he was.

So he cried harder.

Cub hugged Scar tighter in return, rubbing his back. “Hey, hey, you’re okay, it’s okay.” The redstoner said, unsure how to comfort his friend in a state like this.

“No, no, it’s not okay!” Scar cried, stilly muffled by Cub’s shoulder. “My magic, my magic is _useless_ and Grian is _missing_ and!- oh.”

Cub very gently pushed Scar back to look him in the eye. The wizard whimpered and bit down on the entirety of his bottom lip, face flushed with tears and his wobbly emotions. Cub lowered his voice, feeling the air change around them. He didn’t like the feeling of a hand running up his back when he asked “Grian is missing?”

“He’s been missing since the spruce forest! Before that, maybe!” Scar had already started talking and now the floodgates were open. “Xisuma wants me to help them find him but I’m not that powerful as a wizard and it’s so scary because the magic was so gross and Xisuma said whatever it was had to be big because of all the magic it left behind and no one knows if Grian could be, could be _dead_ or badly hurt or even in this world anymore! Xisuma couldn’t find his code! I went home for practicing but I know Mumbo has been wandering through the world and its caves to find Grian and I’m so worried about him because he’s already died like three times but he just keeps! going! out!”

The wizard wanted to ramble more because it felt so good to talk to someone other than Larry but Cub covered his mouth with the palm of his hand. Scar swallowed down the urge to lick him. This was serious time, dammit. Cub pulled his hand away. “Scar, you need to get some sleep. You haven’t slept in like three days and it’s getting to you. It’s going to be okay.”

Scar whimpered in return and snuffled. His friend hugged him again. “C’mon. I’m serious. You go to bed, I’ll clean up the disaster down here, and when you wake up, I’ll make you something to eat, sound good?”

That sounded absolutely amazing, and Scar nodded, exiling himself to his bedroom for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

Cub looked at his communicator and sighed, leaning on Scar’s counter again.

_Cubfan135: Mumbo, I’m trying to help Scar with some redstone. Could you lend us a hand? We’re in a giant snail in the jungle._

_MumboJumbo: I know the one. May take me awhile to get there_

_Cubfan135: No hurry_

_MumboJumbo: Ok lol_

With Mumbo on his way from whatever demonic nook of the world he was hidden in, Cub began cleaning work on the main floor of Larry’s shell. He was intrigued by the ladders going up and down but didn’t want to impede his stressed friend’s privacy and worked on cleaning the kitchen slash storage area.

Vegetables were strewn out on the counter, unfortunately uneaten, and Cub stored them away with some ice to keep them fresh. He hung up the offending shovel with a random assortment of tools Scar had on the far wall. The business man straightened chairs and tables and began sweeping the floor, pushing the dirt out the door and billowing into the air. It was humid and very hot in the jungle compared to dry and very hot in his desert, so Cub hung up his jacket for the time being.

He fetched a pail of water from the lake for dishes when he saw Mumbo dragging himself from the bushes, caked in dirt from a mining session, his usual jacket, shirt, and tie lost for a grubby undershirt. Cub was a little taken aback but tried not to let it show, instead smiling and waving and beckoning Mumbo to follow him into the shell of Larry the Giant Snail. At least Cub saw Mumbo giggle at the coal mustache, at least that was a thing.

Pulling himself up the wobbly ladder and dropping into the entrance of Larry the Giant Snail’s shell, Mumbo looked around with a grunt. “Sooo… how does Scar expect anyone to fit some redstone in here?” He asked, getting to his feet and dusting off his dress pants.

“That was actually just a little trick to get you here without the other Hermits worrying.” Cub said. Mumbo paused, took a small step back, and his hand went to his hip where a very beaten up iron sword was hanging. Quickly putting up his hands to show he meant no harm; Cub saw just how on edge Mumbo was. “I’m not going to hurt you man. I found Scar losing his mind in this snail and he said you had something to do with it. Scar went to bed, I want answers.”

Mumbo eyed the ladder ascending further into the shell and scowled. He looked back to Cub and shifted on his feet. No matter how desperate he was he was still Mumbo, useless with a sword and unable to hurt a person. He was also a total spoon and a terrible lair. “Xisuma said I can’t talk about it.”

“Well I already know that Grian is missing,” Mumbo bristled and Cub then realized that was the wrong thing to say but continued on valiantly nonetheless. “so unless you don’t want my help, you need to tell me more. I’m a smart guy. You saw the drones in the last world. I can tell your cave diving hasn’t been successful.”

“Yeah shut it.” Mumbo snapped, teeth grit together. He didn’t want to admit sleep was getting to him, and so was his overwhelming failure. He had been exploring the nooks and crannies of every biome no matter the weather for what felt like ages and never quite got down to bedrock. He got lost in a sea on mobs and intersecting caves more than one and digging himself out was not easy. He called for his friend and without an elytra, had to do it all on foot. And still, no Grian. It had been a long few days.

“Please,” Said Cub. “let me help you find Grian. He’s my friend too.”

Mumbo felt awfully bitter at that. Grian was his dragon bro, was the founding member of the architechs and Mumbo was the entire reason Grian ever met Xisuma and joined their adventures. Cub didn’t know Grian like he did and never would. And yet Mumbo had to accept the help, and know that the Hermits were all friends, every one of them. Everyone would realize Grian was missing in a short few days, and that time was already close to having run out.

“Xisuma doesn’t think he’s in this dimension.” Mumbo said as flatly as he could, not letting his voice betray him. “We haven’t tried The Nether or The End yet because Xisuma needs Scar to ‘test the magic’ again and make sure its ‘safe’, whatever that means. I couldn’t sit around and wait for Scar to do something-” Mumbo bit his tongue before he said something hurtful and dropped his shoulders. “so I started exploring the dimension Xisuma will let me in. The Overworld. Xisuma was right like he always is. He isn’t here.”

Mumbo leaned on the wall (shell? Shell wall?) and let himself slide down. “He isn’t here.”

With a heavy sigh, Cub walked over and sat next to Mumbo. The mustached man looked very unkempt and very far from everything Mumbo prided himself on. He shewed at his lip and stared at the floor in distain, not knowing how to feel about the world in front of him. It felt empty. Wrong. Gross. Bad. Sad. Dark. Boring.

“Hey,” said Cub, gently nudging Mumbo and trying to give him a little smile. “I’ll tell you what I told Scar. Go to bed, man. You need it.”

“Yeah,” Mumbo whispered, voice breaking. “I do.”

“Go to bed. I’ll walk with ya.”

True to his word, Cub walked Mumbo through the bamboo forest and to his base. It hurt Cub to see the hobbit hole, an echo of Grian that Mumbo didn’t even intend to build. He had to admit it felt empty when he opened the door for Mumbo to stumble through, now bleary eyed and slower than Scar’s snail. Cub left Mumbo tucked away in his starter base and went to his mines.

If Cub was going to help, he would need redstone. And a lot of it. He could afford a few hours in the mines before Scar woke up.

However, as Mumbo fell into his bed, tucked away past the resources he had searched for in preparation of their new world, he felt no desire to work. No itch he could cover with the itch of cakey redstone. No hum in the back of his head that made him run through projects. The man felt no encouragement to do anything but lay in bed and wallow.

Mumbo laid in that bed for a long time before he fell asleep. He stared at the ceiling, waiting for a minecart chest to fall through and land on his floor, filled with chicken eggs or diamond armour or a suspicious amount of beef. Nothing came but the moon, big and white and illuminating one of the black panes of Mumbo’s window Grian had switched out in that stupid prank. Mumbo turned to face the wall where the moon was only a gentle glow and fell asleep to the unnerving growl of his portal.

_Mumbo was running down a tunnel. Mumbo was running very fast. Something very fast was running (chasing. Not running. Chasing?) behind Mumbo, calling his name like it knew him._

_Mumbo could almost see the end of the tunnel. Mumbo saw the unfinished walls of stone. Mumbo saw Grian’s base. If he could get out the front door, Mumbo reasoned, the thing couldn’t get him. It was too big. Mumbo felt the tunnel get smaller, the roof caving in, and the thing at his back took his moment of hesitation to pounce. Mumbo shouted. Mumbo yelled. He kicked and screamed and punched and Mumbo could taste blood. The thing chasing him sat on his stomach and held down his wrists, so Mumbo screamed harder._

_“Mumbo! Mumbo!” Shouted the thing on top of him. “Mumbo you spoon!”_

_Mumbo opened his eyes. He didn’t remember closing them. No, his eyes were open, but the thing had a face now. It hadn’t before. Mumbo’s head hurt. Grian looked_ scared _on top of him, panting with a wild, endless look in his eyes._

_“You gotta, you gotta,” Grian dropped his head and panted. “You gotta tell Xisuma he needs to go to, ah!”_

_Grian fell to his side. Grian shook hard, hand clamped over his mouth to prevent sound. Grian looked at Mumbo with nothing but void in his eyes, endless darkness filled with stars. Mumbo sat up and cradled Grian in his lap, which was much harder now because Grian had wings. Grian had wings. Sure. Grian whimpered and Mumbo couldn’t move anymore, could only sit, watch Grian suffer, and listen to him cry._

_“Mumbo, please,” Grian gasped, grabbing Mumbo’s suit jacket. “tell Xisuma he needs to go to home.”_

_Mumbo couldn’t move. Grian choked on a sob and tried to reach for his back, floundering. Mumbo helped Grian sit up. Grian’s large wings hung from his back limply. A tight, wire net was wrapped around his left wing and when Grian moved it would bleed a little more. Grian whimpered in earnest, gritting his teeth so hard Mumbo could hear it. Mumbo looked at Grian’s face. His tears had turned into void, leaving dimensionless tracks on his face. Mumbo pushed himself away from Grian._

_When Grian looked to Mumbo, eyes expressionless, face full of pain, a tear dripped onto Mumbo’s hand._

Mumbo woke up with a gasp, clutching his left hand. The back of his palm burned. Mumbo scrambled for his communicator and shakily typed.

_MumboJumbo: x ky palce now_


	3. Chapter Three

The Admin of the Hermits stood in Mumbo’s hobbit hole with the deepest frown on his face. Mumbo was half-curled into himself on his head, cradling his hand. He said it burned, but Xisuma saw nothing wrong, no red skin, no rash. The redstoner before him was clutching at his hair, trying to explain his dream, but as all dreams do, they fade from your memory.

“Grian he- I think he was- I was running and he was chasing me?” Mumbo rubbed his face with his good hand. “That can’t be right… But, he didn’t have a face!” Mumbo’s expression fell. “And then he did. But his eyes were black and there was stars in them! He was, oh goodness gracious he was hurt! He was hurt Xisuma something had happened and he was crying and there was like a net wrapped around his wings! He said you needed to go home.”

Xisuma bristled. “Pardon?”

“Grian said I needed to tell you to go home. I don’t really know what that means-”

“This is my home.” Xisuma snapped. Mumbo flinched and pulled himself further into his bed. The Admin sighed and cradled his head, snorting at the bee paint coming off of his hands when he pulled away. This was supposed to be a _safe_ world. It was going to be _fun_. He shut his eyes, weary on his feet, and shook his head. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“It’s, it’s fine Xisuma.” Mumbo said. “What was Grian talking about?”

Did Xisuma want to have this conversation with Mumbo at around four in the morning after getting three hours of sleep? God, no. He didn’t. Was it sorta time and important information, well, sure. Xisuma was struggling to find if that made it easier or harder.

“You know that I’m Voidkind. Most people know I’m Voidkind, with the, with the helmet, and the weird skin, and the whole Admin thing.” Xisuma started to buffer the final blow. He decided to sit on Mumbo’s bed before he fell over. Mumbo sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed with Xisuma, sitting next to him silently and patiently. “So obviously I lived in the void, the, the End for the start of my life. It’s kinda… bonkers out there. And if you fly far enough… There’s a part of the End that doesn’t change no matter what world you’re in. A lot of people there think it’s the centre of the universe and everything else is just a branch extension.”

“I… think I’ve heard about that actually.” Mumbo said quietly as he nodded along. “My mom used to tell me stories about Voidkind kinda being… reverse beings. And she said the came from that weird part of the universe so they weren’t…” Mumbo looked at Xisuma and shut his mouth. “Yeah.”

Xisuma took off his helmet and threw it gently towards the wall. The clank was still loud, but the admin needed to yank on his hair again. He hadn’t realized how long his ruddy hair had gotten, but it felt good to rub at the bags under his eyes as he mulled over the worst of his story.

“Voidkind are usually made of the void, since there isn’t much else out there. Legend has it the void got lonely one day and spat out the first Voidkind.” Xisuma laughed a little under his breath. “Uuh, I have a brother. I’m sure you know him, with the whole Evil X thing.”

“Don’t remind me.” Mumbo said with a look of distaste.

“I wanted to leave the End. It was too much for me. But I couldn’t, because I was just void, and the second I left I’d break everything.” Mumbo thought of the melting trees of the spruce forest and his eyes widened. “When I began practicing magic I found separation spells. I reasoned there had to be a being underneath the void of Voidkind if the void itself wasn’t alive and casted one of myself like a total derp.”

Mumbo found it in himself to laugh then. Xisuma smiled too, but it didn’t fell right.

“The part of me that was alive was separated from the part of me that was void. Sort of. That’s how Ex happened. I could travel the Overworld, and Ex was stuck in the End forever.” Mumbo didn’t want to ask what sort of meant and the admin didn’t look like he would answer questions then anyways. “He resents me, as one would. I, I _never_ cast magic again, and said I would just _avoid_ Ex and nothing bad would happen. When I met the Hermits, and then when the previous Admin gave me the title, I told myself I’d only use that magic. Which is why we need Scar. I’m out of practice.”

“Hold on,” Mumbo said, even though he didn’t want to ask questions. “You’re telling me Voidkind can’t leave the end and you cast a spell to tear yourself in half because you were bored?”

Xisuma level his gaze on Mumbo. Xisuma always did have the kind of stares that freeze your blood and make you regret crossing him. Usually, he starts laughing immediately after and it’s fine, but this time Mumbo felt himself shrink back as his hand stopped throbbing. Xisuma looked like he was preparing to bestow the most important information he had upon Mumbo when he said, “The End is a very dangerous place itself, Mumbo. The Deep End will kill you the second you show a sign of weakness.”

Mumbo thought to Grian flailing as he tried to free his wing from the net. His heart sank.

“What do we do?” He asked softly.

Xisuma shook his head and rubbed his face, reaching out for his helmet. As he slid it back into place, its weight was familiar and damming on his shoulders. He clipped it onto his neckpiece and reattached the hose on the front of the mask to one that hung from his back when not in use. Xisuma took a deep breath of the air of the Void, sharp and sweet and light. It was nothing like the earthy, heavy air of the Overworld. Xisuma sighed out all the precious air filling his lungs and looked at Mumbo.

“I guess I go home.”

\----------

Hearing one’s Admin is going on a long perilous journey is like one hearing the King is going to war. It is knowing if he dies, a new King will come, take over, probably change things, and the world will be so, so different.

So when Xisuma calls a world wide meeting at the Mooshroom island near Iskall’s first shop, everyone is safe to say uncomfortable. He stands before the crowd of his friends, people he’s promised to protect, and finds it in himself to smile. “I’m going home for awhile.” Is what he says, like he needs to visit his ailing mom. “I should be back soon.”

Everyone saw right through their derp of an Admin, but it was Iskall who spoke up.

“Does this have anything to do with Grian disappearing?”

The crowd rippled with whispers. Mumbo elbowed Iskall in the ribs and Xisuma dropped his head with a little chuckle. Of course they noticed Grian was gone. Who wouldn’t? The man was everywhere, and his absence was something Xisuma felt anywhere he went. Some Hermits who maybe weren’t as close to Grian, or were living in the middle of the ocean (Hermit equivalent to under a rock), looked at each other like they had solved the puzzle as why everything felt _off_ in the past few days. Xisuma watched for a few moments as people whispered, some looking around like this was an elaborate prank and Grian would swoop from the sky after spending four days conquering the End cities all on his own so everyone had to buy their elytras and shulker shells from him.

“It does.” Xisuma said. The whispers stopped. “I’ll be going to the Deep End and discussing some things with people there I know in case they have any information on what may have happened to Grian. Until I’m back, Joe is in charge. Joe, you’re in charge.”

“This mighty power on my shoulders is too much for a mere mortal.” The Hermit said in response.

“I can help with that.” Cleo winked, devilish plans of Admin powers already coming to fruition.

“No, no you cannot.” Xisuma quickly crushed those dreams.

“You’re telling me you’re going to the Deep End with no promise of you coming back without us?” False asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“What I’m hearing is roooAAD TRIP!” Tango declared.

“Did someone say road trip?!” Ren gasped, looking around. “Ugh, if only I had my van dudes!”

“I did not say road trip!” Xisuma protested.

Cleo slung her arm around Xisuma’s shoulders and grinned at him, face happy and decaying. “C’mon X, you know you’d love the company.” She said, gesturing to the bustling group of Hermits.

The Admin felt a hand run down his back that wasn’t Cleo’s and shivered, looking at his friends. Some were more excited about the adventure than others, and Xisuma knew he couldn’t possibly bring all of them anyways. It was very Hermit-like to throw themselves into danger, despite the group’s name. They were looking to him for answers and Xisuma didn’t know what to say. At least he knew trying to keep the Hermits in the Overworld would fail no matter how hard he tried.

“I will take a _small_ group of people. And we have to be careful! Fighters would be best.”

False stepped forwards almost immediately, looking to her side for her armoured friend. When Wels didn’t step forwards, she faltered for a moment. “Let’s do this thing.”

“That’s right!” Cleo pounced on her, trapping False in her sideways hug with a big grin. False laughed, wrapping her arms around Cleo’s and leaning into her happy swaying. Xisuma’s heart twinged for False and he smiled despite himself.

Iskall pat Mumbo hard on the back and stepped forwards. He wasn’t trained like False or reckless like Cleo but he could stand his ground. “If it helps us find Grian.”

“I’m so ready for the next adventure I’ve been so bored.” Tango proclaimed, stepped forwards. Xisuma didn’t want to admit he felt a little better having another immortal on the team. Impulse rolled his eyes at his friend; they had been in the new world for maybe a week.

Doc stepped forwards and grinned. “When we find Grian, I’ll be able to hold this over him for the rest of his life.” He hissed, hand resting on the sword by his hip. Anyone knew the creeper cyborg was a real threat and had enough determination for the whole group.

Looking to the proud group of fighters, Scar shuffled on his feet. He wanted to help somehow but his grasp on magic was weak. His fighting was terrible. All Scar could remember being good at was building. Cub elbowed him in the ribs. “Well? Get up there.” He said, shoving Scar through the crowd of Hermits.

When the wizard stumbled into Etho and nearly fell on TFC with his uncoordinated feet, Doc caught him by his robe and pulled him up. Scar laughed a little and collected himself, scared to meet the Admin’s eyes. He half-expected to be denied. Xisuma just smiled and looked at the other Hermits. Some looked like they wanted to step up too, but the world was new and would need most of the Hermits to stay and protect it. The Admin heaved a sigh and nodded to his friends.

“Well, this is a good group if I’ve seen one. We leave tomorrow, rest up and collect the resources you’ll need.” The group began to split with their orders but Xisuma stopped them. “Guys, I need you to know. The Deep End is nothing you’ve seen. I don’t have Admin powers there. There’s no food a mortal can eat. _Prepare yourselves_.”

False nodded firm and promptly left. Doc didn’t seem bothered as he left with Bdubs, teasing the other man for not stepping up (“I have a house to fix, stinker!). Iskall and Mumbo walked off shoulder to shoulder, talking quietly. Xisuma could have sworn he heard Mumbo promise Iskall honey blocks and free redstone. Tango just bound off with the rest of Team ZIT following him, making him promise he wouldn’t find a way to die. Left were Scar and Cleo.

Joe slid an emerald into Cleo’s hand and smiled. “I should still have some very potent potions popping pleasantly in the brewer if you want them.” He said, sensing Cleo’s fear. She had died before. Really died. Hardcore, no respawn died. Xisuma had tried to change the codes in time to save her, but he was moments too late. When the zombie first respawned, she was just that, a zombie. At least she had thoughts, and wasn’t really dead, but she wasn’t really human either. Cleo didn’t know how she felt about walking back into permadeath territory.

The token emerald and promise of potions that Joe probably left to brew for too long were good though. She left with Joe to raid his stash.

The other Hermits had mostly left. Only TFC remained, Jevin, Keralis, Beef, and the others had already filtered out of the Mooshroom island. The numbers of boats on the shores dwindled, but Cub sat on the beach in his, waiting.

TFC clapped Xisuma on the shoulder and grinned at Scar under his own scraggly beard. “I remember when there were no admins. None. A lot of folks my age worried you’d change the whole world.” He said. “I’m real glad you did my friend. Safe journeying. If you need anything, I’m your man.” With that the Hermit set off to his no longer hermit house.

Scar shuffled again. He was nervous as anything and flinched when Xisuma held him by the shoulders. “I won’t make you come.”

“I know.” Scar squeaked.

“You know, even if you’re not a fighter, I do need some magic.” Xisuma added. “Tango is great but he’s reckless. I’ll be useless once we get out there. You may be mortal but you have a better chance then, say, False, because of all this magic. You gotta know that Scar. You’re going to be a big help.”

Scar snuffled. Xisuma hugged him. “I won’t let anything happen to any of you. You’re _my_ Hermits. Whatever the hell took Grian pissed me off enough.” Startled by his Admin cussing, Scar began to laugh. Xisuma pushed him towards where Cub still waited on the shore. “Now get your heckin butt to work.”

“Sir yes sir.” Scar grinned, running towards the shore with his cape flowing behind him. Xisuma made a mental note to find him a spare pair of pants.

The Admin watched his friend run. He watched Cub sail away with a wave. The Admin stood alone on the Mooshroom island and looked at the strange beauty of the Overworld around him. This was his home. This was his home. Xisuma pulled out his rockets and took to the air on his fresh elytra, the prosthetic wings helping him glide across the sea and to his new base.

Landing, Xisuma looked around once more. He begun to prepare.

This was his home.


	4. Chapter Four

It was noon when the group reconvened at the Mooshroom island.

False was fully decked on in enchanted diamond armour, a heavy pack weighing her down as she smiled from under her visor. She packed extra weapons, enough arrows to take out the entire Shulker population, and food for all of them. She had made some spare rockets, but her gunpowder supply wasn't the best so early in the new world. Was she nervous? Certainly. She, Iskall, and Scar were the only humans on this escapade, but Iskall had his enhanced eyesight and Scar his magic. All she had was her kickass fighting skills and a while lot of determination.

Tango was dressed in plain clothes, red eyes shining with excitement. Doc commented on the gold rings he felt the need to put on his horns. Tango just shuffled his backpack and stuck out his tongue. If was going to meet Voidkind he wanted to represent for the Nether. Packed was several packages of rockets, plenty of golden carrots, bartering tokens (Zed joked he was part Piglin. Tango said they went extinct a long time ago), and a good amount of redstone. He was excited to explore the worlds no matter what threats Xisuma laid on him.

Doc wore his normal get up too, his coat and jeans. His cybernetics were freshly polished, he and Iskall had spent the night together repairing even the smallest of issues in their cybernetics in case anything perilous happened. At Doc’s belt were shulker boxes, a dragon head sitting on his left hip as a clear warning. The creeper wore spoils of battle he had carried with him over several worlds. Over his back, however, was a brandnew, sparkling trident. He had everything he would need, redstone, food, rockets, and building materials. He was gonna G.O.A.T this new dimension.

Iskall wore thick, black leather plating over his clothes, a heavy bag of redstone, food, and building materials slung over his shoulder with a pickaxe and a sword hanging from it. His eyepiece was still in the process of calibrating to new light levels after being reset the night before, but colour was more vibrant, so that had to be good. Iskall felt awake and as prepared as he could. He had spent his time not with Doc with Mumbo. Mumbo would keep the world moving industrially with Impulse while many of the other redstoners of the server were elsewhere. Iskall would bring Grian home.

Cleo, despite her worries, was beaming in her plain clothes. From her shoulder hung a small bag stuffed with potent potions. Spending a night deciphering Joe and his poetry had put her mind at ease. Now with potions that were way too powerful and would definitely had some interesting aftereffects, she felt safe. She didn't need food as much as her friends and she trusted them to be more prepared than her... so Cleo brought her first edition copy of Statues in case Scar needed some help with his magic.

Scar, now in pants, had a similar bag to Cleo's stuffed with building blocks, resources like flint and steel, food, and his spell books. He brought tools, but he was useless with a sword. He packed comfort food, Cub having slid him some cake the night before. Scar would practice magic where he could and offer his help in any way once they were travelling. Sure he was still nervous, but Cleo made sure to hype him up with Tango and being around their big smiles and the other's big weapons helped.

The volunteers were set.

Xisuma had fought with himself over what to wear. His normal armour was what most of the Hermits expected of him. He worried that if he changed into clothing from his old home they would worry. On the other side of the coin, was Xisuma wearing his Overworld and his Voidkind identity not being enough to protect the group from outright attacks. So the Admin wore his armour underneath a heavy black cloak. It billowed like water and sparkled like stars. It was his safest bet at that point, he thought. Xisuma had shulkers hanging from his hips full of food, rockets, tools, and miscellaneous supplies like Scar. The Admin had to be the most prepared. He just had to be. He even brought elytras for everyone. As he approached the End portal, Xisuma swallowed and straightened his back. He needed to to brave, and brave he was.

The small group stood before the End portal, frowning. Xisuma slowly handed out and the elytras he and Tango donated for the journey. As everyone geared up and helped each other strap on the flying devices rocket rations were made among them.

“I’ll be able to get us to the edge of the End.” Explained Xisuma. “But once we’re in the Deep End, I can’t promise anything.”

So the Hermits jumped without so much as saying goodbye.

The feeling of being pulled through dimensions was never pleasant for anyone, but this time for sure Xisuma felt sick. He swayed on his feet for a moment before Tango clapped him on the back and walked towards the exit portal like he was turning right back around. The others followed, gathering around the bedrock dragon’s nest uneasily. They looked at the unhatched egg and to each other. Then, to Xisuma.

The Admin removed his helmet and set it on the endstone reverently. He shook out his hair and adjusted the cloak around his shoulders before looking to his friends again. “Well then.” He smiled, walking closer to the group and looking up at the dragon’s egg. Cleo couldn’t read his expression, and she was great at reading expressions.

Ones and zeroes filled Xisuma’s visor when he reached into code. But without his helmet, Xisuma just closed his eyes. The Hermits watching could have sworn they saw light behind his eyelids before the feeling of being ripped through dimensions curdled their blood again.

They stood on an End island, looking out at the Deep End.

No mortal had seen it in a long, long time. The End was a big dimension. No matter how many cities you conquered there were more. No matter how far you flew there was land. The End was expansive and filled with life, even if that life was only shulkers and whatever extinct (?) thing build the towering structures.

But this was truly void. Nothing but darkness surrounded their island. It was disorienting and confusing but also, very, very cool. False felt herself begin to sway to the tune of the void, which of course, was silence. Even's Iskall's eye couldn't see the slightest change in the endless darkness.

“This is your last chance to turn around. If you stare into this kind of black for too long you can go insane.” Xisuma said. Everyone saw his warning was a plea.

“No way am I turning this down,” Said Doc, stepping closer to the edge of the endstone. It began crumbling under his weight but still the cyborg leaned into the endless dark.

“You’re stuck with us now.” Agreed Cleo, testing her elytra once more.

“At least we should have a plan,” False said, turning away from the emptiness. “since this stuff can make us crazy. If we take… shifts? If we fly holding someone, and they look at us while the fliers look at Xisuma, it shouldn’t be so bad. When the fliers feel themselves getting tired or dizzy or whatever it is, we’ll switch. It can’t be that far.”

“It can be.” Xisuma said distantly.

“I think that’s a good plan, a good plan.” Iskall said, counting heads of those around him. Cleo, Tango, Doc, Scar, False, and himself. It was a good round number and Xisuma could lead without being hindered by the emptiness since it is technically where he came from. The group partnered up. Luckily Iskall had packed leads able to tie the partners together around the middle. Xisuma wanted to then tie each partnership together and then to himself, but there weren’t enough leads for that to work.

Xisuma jumped off the island and fell for a brief moment.

_Xisumavoid has left the world._

To feel wind on his face, real wind, in the End, where the air wasn’t thick and hot and heavy, was a glorious moment. But his dive couldn’t last before he entered the place of no return, and he swung himself higher into the air. Already, the blackness was becoming disorienting, and Xisuma was the Voidkind of the group. All the Admin could do in that moment, if you could still call him that without his powers, was focus.

He saw Grian, alone, in and End city, scared and hurt. He saw Ex sitting among the stars, moping like he always did. Xisuma saw his old home, foreboding and threatening but still home. And while these places weren’t laid in front of him, Xisuma pictured them there, in his reach, a possible destination. His wings began moving on their own.

Behind him, he heard rockets.

_Docm77 has left the world._

_Iskall85 has left the world._

_Falsesymmetry has left the world._

_Zombiecleo has left the world._

_TangoTek has left the world._

_Goodtimewithscar has left the world._

With his friends behind him, the Admin flew. The void welcomed him in it's endlessly cold hug, an old friend Xisuma had forgotten. Stretching while flying was difficult, but it felt good on weary bones that had been encumbered by too much gravity for too long.

The straps of Xisuma’s elytra snapped. Wings he had tried to forget he had unfurled from his back much like that of an elytra, but bigger and darker. He could feel the Hermits staring and heard soft whispers over the sound of rockets, but Xisuma just kept flying. He let his muscle memory guide him into the blackness and let time fade into the back of his thoughts.

No one in the group knew how long they flew. Scar tried counting the seconds for awhile but they numbers became jumbled in his head. Iskall snapped to a slow beat to give himself something to listen to until Doc hissed at him for the noise. Everyone only looked to Xisuma, his new (?) wings, and how quietly he flew into the endless expanse before them.

It felt like they have traveled a thousand miles. It looked like they weren’t moving.

The rocket rations were holding up well since the new flying system had less bodies, but more weight. Tango had been using his rockets to estimate how far they had gone and his hands went clammy around Scar’s shoulders when he finally noticed there were none left in his sling and he would have to open a whole new supply of 64. Had they really gone through 64 rockets?

“Are you okay Tango?” Scar asked, looking up at Tango as the man seemed to wiggle in his elytra.

“Yeah… just,” Tango huffed and meant Scar’s eyes for a moment. His red eyes were shining and watery, searching for light in the expanse when there was none. “we’ve gone super far. And there’s nothing. There’s nothing.”

Frowning, Scar looked to the rest of the group. Everyone was keeping up very well, Xisuma about five or ten feet ahead. “How about we switch?”

Tango distantly nodded. Scar unfurled his elytra and Tango closed his. Together they rolled to the left, spinning them so Tango was on his back underneath Scar and Scar was flying them through the Void. Immediately the wizard realized how expansive and confusing the void was to look at. He felt as if his eyes couldn’t choose where to land because there was nothing to land on. Scar started daggers into Xisuma in the hopes to ground himself.

Around Scar and Tango, the other Hermits changed positions, allowing the fliers a break to fill their rocket slings and rest their eyes. Scar already felt a strain on his.

Until, the blackness opened up. A slit appeared in the endless black expanse and Scar faltered for a moment because he saw Grian. He flew closer to the opening, but it always stayed just as far, not close enough.

Grian was hurriedly tying a tripwire to a hook. He slid behind the wall it was connected to and brushed the redstone lines closer together to make the signal stronger. He was hurrying, dark robes that didn’t fit flurrying around him. Grian’s wings twitched nervously at his back. The tripwire clicked. There was the sound of pistons, although they sounded almost heavier. Freezing and pushing his back up against the wall, Grian covered his mouth and nose and shut his eyes.

The dark enclave of the wall became even darker with a thick shadow. Scar couldn’t piece together what could make a shadow like that. Grian’s eyes opened and he smiled, or tried to smile, guilt and fear written on his features as he shakily tried to keep his cool. “I-I’m sorry, it was just a little game, its fun! Fun, see, we do this on the Overworld all the-” Something lunged forwards and grabbed Grian the wing, dragging him away as the trickster screamed.

The image faded. Scar was left with more blackness before him, fear striking through him.

“We need to hurry,” He said, using three rockets to propel himself closer to Xisuma. Tango shouted in protest and held on more tightly. “Xisuma we need to hurry.”

“What’s wrong Scar?” Xisuma asked, looking to Scar with a small frown. His eyes were the only ones who looked unchanged, as voidless as ever.

“I, I saw him Xisuma.” Scar said, letting go of one of Tango’s shoulders to gesture towards the inky blackness before grabbing back on. “I saw Grian, he was hiding from something, and, and it caught him, and he was screaming, we have to hurry he’s hurt and he’s scared we need to find him.”

“I know, I know.” Xisuma said, torn between looking where he was flying and facing Scar. “We’re on our way. Grian is tough, he’ll stick it out until we get there.”

Three rockets fired in quick procession behind them. Iskall, carrying Doc, came to Xisuma’s other side, frowning. “What’s going on? What about Grian?”

“I think Scar had a _prophetic_ vision.” Xisuma said, trying to calm Scar. Just because he saw it, doesn’t mean it happened, right? Xisuma frowned and peered into the void in front of them. “Perhaps you’re hallucinating, Scar. People tend to see what they fear, or what they want in this place. In this case, Grian alive. And that’s not a bad thing, I just don’t want you thinking Grian is in great danger when it’s the void playing tricks on you. Yeah?”

Scar pouted. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry buddy.” Tango said giving Scar a big goofy grin. “We’re all gonna be just fine. We’ll find Grian in tip top shape and bring him right back home.” Said the demon.

Silence fell back on the group. Cleo and False moved themselves closer to the group so they wouldn’t be trailing behind. Scar looked into the blackness for more visions while everyone else looked for land. It was a long flight and everyone wanted it to be over. Even Xisuma was beginning to feel the wear of such endless travelling in such an endless space.

“I meant to ask Xisuma… why would something from the Deep End want Grian?” Iskall asked. The silence came back heavier and one could say the void became darker. Iskall looked to his fellow Hermits nervously. “I mean, if they didn’t take him, how would they know where he is?”

“Grian joined the Hermits as a friend of Mumbo’s. Mumbo met Grian when he left our world for some studies awhile back.” Xisuma said “Grian has… been around for a long time. He lived in a dangerous Permadeath world for awhile before he could escape, then did some time travelling with old friends, but that world ended. When I asked why, I didn’t get an answer.”

“Noah’fense X, that’s just a dark backstory.” Tango joked. Cleo elbowed him and False and Scar both complained as they were jostled.

Xisuma laughed despite himself. “Voidkind see themselves as gods. Everything below them, aka everything in the Overworld and the Nether, are mere mortals that need to be ‘guided’ through their lives. And as you all know, Grian is a terrible listener.”

“You’re being incredibly cryptic, X.” Cleo brought up. She was uncomfortable the second Permadeath was mentioned and now X was talking about some gods she had never heard of? Cleo never met no gods. Cleo had no interest in gods. As far as she was concerned, she was god, the only god she needed. And the Hermits. They worshipped her. They did.

“Because we’re close. They could be listening.” Xisuma replied. That was only more cryptic, and everyone felt chills run down their backs. The Admin was true to his word, however. The endless dark was gone. A blip in the distance faced them, skyscraping (void scraping?) towers made of obsidian, purpur, and dark glass. The Hermits gaped at the sight, following their Admin towards the structures. No one wanted to break the silence that had swallowed them. From afar, the towers looked big, and no one wanted to guess how big they would really be once the small group stood at the door.

“Is Grian there?” Asked False.

“I wish,” Said Xisuma. “my brother is.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should apologize...

The Trickster knew these parts well. For the nebulous time he had not seen the Overworld, he resided in this part of the Deep End. These castles were a sick home he truly had no interest in, but he had nothing other to call them. Maybe prison, but that would imply the Watchers had succeeded in imprisoning him and that Trickster wasn’t doing everything in his incomparable power to free himself. Grian had escaped once before, he could do it again. The builder didn’t know what he had done that allowed the Watchers to find him a second time after taking so many precautions, but once he found out he would never do it again. If that meant he could no longer change worlds when his friends moved on, the Trickster would stay behind. See, he was _loyal._ In his time with the Watchers, both in the past and present, the Watchers had done their best to change him. To make him them.

Luckily, the Trickster was incredibly stubborn.

They seared magic into his blood. The Trickster did not cast unless he doing exactly what they told him not to, smashing precious items into unbreakable walls and throwing Watchers right after them.

They taught him the redstone of the End. The heavy pistons and nebulous dust and piercing stares of the observers did nothing but spark pranks in the Tricksters eyes. If he had to stay in the end, he would make his captors regret keeping him.

They showed him how to build. Build their temples, at least, their castles and their holy places. This block goes there. This goes here. No, that can’t go there (the Trickster put them there anyways). He took the tall, repetitive structures and made them his own, even with limited resources.

They gave him wings. With his new transformation magic, the Trickster turned them from the thin, flittering wings of an elytra into the full, golden feathered wings of an Overworld bird.

Grian sat alone in his room. The ceilings towered above him, endrods reaching down and filling the room with just too little light. He had been what he called grounded since he tried to trap one of the Watchers imprisoning him, Taer, in a bedrock box. Needless to say, Taer, Speker, and Seer were all very disappointed in his little project. Lisener was the only one of the four Watchers that was kind to him. Grian was nonetheless very proud of his redstone contraption and knew that next time, if he was a lick faster, he could trap one of them for a good stretch of time and escape that awful place.

Although the punishment was meant to be just that, a punishment, imprisonment, isolation, Grian couldn’t complain about his ‘cell’. The architect was simplicity beautiful. The lights ironically looked like they were dripping from the heavens. The room was thin but long, the left wall nothing but tall bookshelves filled with information Grian didn’t want to know. On one end of the room was a large desk, and the other his bed. It was comfortable, maybe, but just because he had no cricks in his back when the builder woke did not mean the room was safe.

He heard whistling down the hall. Grian dove under the giant bed, his human body easily able to fit under the Voidkind bed. He curled up and tucked his wings close to his body, covering his mouth and his nose. The door opened, and the air was sucked out of the room as the whistling only grew.

Finally, it stopped. “Tch,” Scowled Taer, shutting the door and walking away.

Taer’s whistles were often poor mockeries of the birds from worlds they had taken over or destroyed. Grian thought the Voidkind couldn’t carry a tune or stay on beat and he smiled to himself when he thought about Xisuma’s musical capabilities. Taer seemed to know their whistling was terrible too, because they only whistled around Grian when they knew they had permission to mess with him. The notes rang like the most irritating bells and the tunes had no rhythm, no melody. It was just the sound that meant _hide._

Grian let out a sigh of relief and went slack on the endstone floor. A hand closed around his injured wing and yanked, making the Trickster yelp as he was dragged from his safe haven. Taer leaned over the human, still scowling. “You really think I wouldn’t see him, didn’t you?” They say, turning back to the poor Trickster underneath him. “Speker would like to talk to you, little Trickster.”

Thrashing in Taer’s grip, Grian tried to free his aching wing. “You’re hurting me!” He cried.

“Oh, am I hurting our Dearest Trickster?” Taer asked, long teeth bared into Grian’s face. “Maybe that will teach them some manners.”

“Taer.” Said Lisener from the door. “You forget how breakable humans are.”

From what Grian knew, Taer was the youngest of the four Watchers. They were also the most reckless, the one who liked to torment him the most. Speker was annoying maybe, and sure they said some terrifying things, but it seemed like Taer was always the enforcer. Lisener never participated in his torment. Grian didn’t know if that was a blessing or if their inaction was a curse. Seer just watched. If Grian thought about it, he had only heard Seer speak once or twice.

At that time, Grian couldn’t think about it, because Taer was holding the wing they had broken a few short days before. It was only a small fracture, not a compound break, but jostling the injury did not help it heal nor did it feel pleasant. Grian’s face was twisted in pain as he tried to push himself away from the Watcher and only worsened the pressure on his wing. Taer twisted it down and yanked the human underneath themself again, prompting a scream from Grian. He thrashed out any limb he could in retaliation, but his kicks and punches had no effect on the Voidkind. Thankfully, Lisener very carefully pulled Taer away and helped Grian to his feet. “Off we go then.” They said, eyes only swirling black holes that made Grian endlessly dizzy.

Shrinking in on himself as they trailed down long, dark hallways, Grian adjusted the robes on his shoulder. They were incredibly heavy and he missed his red sweater. Grian felt tears well in his eyes and wiped them away, watching his bare feet bad down the carpeted hallway. He was tired and aching and not prepared to receive another verbal whooping. It would be so much easier to go along with what they asked of him, none of it was particularly terrible (yet), and it would certainly mean Taer would have less chances to torment Grian. A large, clawed hand laid itself over the back of his neck and Lisener sighed softly.

“Why does Speker want to talk to me?” The human asked bitterly. His voice was small.

“Shh,” Lisener said.

Rolling his eyes, Grian watched Lisener pull open the heavy doors of the grand hall. The tall, obsidian door screeched on the endstone floors, heavy on its hinges. The intricately carved structures now out of the way, Grian was faced with the Grand Hall. A long, dark purple carpet trailed all the way through the giant room to a small podium were the Grand Throne sat. Along the carpet were large Watcher statues. Their clawed hands were spread invitingly, their right holding endrod torches that lit the room all on their own. Their wings were spread behind them like long capes. The obsidian structures did poorly to illustrate just how endless Watchers seemed to be, truly born of the void. The walls were lined with tall purpur window frames filled with intricate stained-glass work, even if the colour palate was limited. Many of the windows were more or less tapestries meant to tell stories of the Watchers inhabiting the castle. Grian saw himself and his red (shown as purple) sweater being scrutinized by Seer, sword in hand as the Watcher reached out to him almost reverently.

Tearing his eyes away from the architecture and the frankly insulting interpretation of his kidnapping, Grian walked dutifully into the room where he saw three of the four Watchers waiting for him. Taer sneered at him. Grian stuck out his tongue.

Lisener teleported next to the grand throne of the hall, where Speker sat, in a flurry of thick purple particles. Directly at Speker’s side was Lisener and Seer, Taer standing a step down from the throne. That gave Grian a little pleasure at the slightest, seeing Taer quite literally knocked down a peg. However, when Grian took in the whole image, he was less pleased. Four Watchers all prepared to judge him was never a good thing. Especially not when he had maybe tried to hurt one of them a few days ago. The human would not show his fear, however, and stood as tall as a human could in the presence of Voidkind.

“You summoned me?” Grian asked. He spread out his wings, one just a bit too crooked, but he had already put his magic on the task of mending it. Healing oneself with magic wasn’t always the easiest. “Or, Taer broke my wing again on your behalf?”

Taer growled under their breath and bared their sparkling white teeth as they slid from the sheath of their mouth. Speker only sighed, pitch-high voice constantly disappointed and sad. “Oh, dearest Trickster. This is exactly why we are _here._ You are not listening. You show so much disrespect for the people who have done so much to help you.”

Grian bit his tongue so hard it _bled_. The bitter, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and he cringed when he had to swallow it. With the iron of his blood, the Trickster hardened his gaze.

“How lucky it was when we found you. A lost little Admin running through his world with no knowledge of the power he held. Tormenting his subjects by imprisoning them in the past. It was so upsetting to watch you mortals struggle so when your gods had worked so hard to bring you easy life.” Speker sang. “I knew you were special once Seer pointed you out to me. I knew we had to save your subjects and take you under our wings. And in response to our kindess… you ran away. Back into the Overworld. _Hiding_ yourself from your superiors. Causing more trouble for the people foolish enough to call you their friend. It truly is a shame, Trickster. Look at what you have become.”

“I-”

“I want you to apologize, Grian. For tricking Taer like that in such a pitiful trap. And for being a poor Admin, and finally a poor Watcher. With more discipline I will see to it you are something great. Obedience will see to it that you become a great god. You will have the reverence you crave, the respect you must learn, and stand here with us. Apologize, dearest Trickster.”

“I _am_ sorry,” Grian bit out. “I’m sorry you are so dumb.”

Seer narrowed their starfire eyes. The smallest of the Watchers bristled and tilted their head at the exact same time as Speker. The lights of their eyes glowed brighter, burning holes into Grian, but the man refused to flinch. Lisener bowed their head and shut their swirling eyes with another sigh. Taer smirked, standing to their full height, which towered over Grian even from ten feet away. They stuck out their tongue, all long silvery teeth and poor expression. Speker only pouted, showing the sharp points of their teeth when they said “I just can’t find a reason a mortal would be so upset as to disrespect a god. Could you tell us why, Trickster?”

“You stole me from my home.” Grian snarled, the fire started inside of him. His hands balled into fists. Sparks glowed in his throat and popped in his palms. The magic he hated began taking him over, filling him with raging fire until it seeped through his skin and covered him in a growing purple glow. “You _killed_ my friends. You tried to _brainwash_ me, and when I finally escaped and made a name for myself, you’re doing it all over again! I will never be a Watcher! Do you hear me!? I am _Grian_ , the _Hermit_ Grian, and I like it that way! My friends love me and I am going back to them!”

Grian was going to scream. He was going to scream and yell and snarl and bite and shout until the Watcher’s bled blood he didn’t think they had. When he opened his mouth from his latest lungful of thin Deep End air, nothing came out. Grian tried to speak, but not a sound left him. His vocal cords strained and his mouth moved but truly not sound left him, not even his breath. The purple glow around Grian fell as his rage was replaced by fear. He tried to reach for his throat and feel for the issue but found himself well and truly stuck. Seer’s eyes were twisting as they smirked, their gaze pinning him to the spot. Taer flexed what Grian referred to as their slicin’ hand and the mortal swallowed more of the blood that had pooled in his mouth as he felt fear freeze his blood.

Speker stood from their throne, head still perfectly tilted. They glided down the steps with eerie grace and their long cape billowing along the floor until they stood in front of Grian. Voidkind were big and endless. Speker filled Grian’s vision, leaning over him purposely, ten feet of void and long teeth and claws and annoyingly controlled anger. Grian’s breathing picked up as a giant, clawed hand reached for his face. Watching it like his stare could shoo it away, Grian whimpered (because at least Speker gave him the ability to make sounds that were scared for their own sick pleasure) when the hand met his face and wrenched his head up to meet Speker’s sparkling eyes.

These eyes were not blackholes or starefire. They were clusters of stars, and Grian distantly wondered if every star needed to make two Watcher eyes was a soul Speker had taken. Or tamed.

The mortal couldn’t move an inch under this scrutiny.

“We must do something about that mouth of yours, Dearest Trickster.”


	6. Chapter Six

Doc shoved Ex into the wall, eyes narrowed as he bared his teeth. “Stop playing with us and tell us what we want to know.”

Ex sighed and slipped from Doc’s grip as a shadow, walking through the creeper as if he wasn’t there. The Voidkind’s watery body rippled for a moment before going dark again, stars blinking at the gaping Hermits. “When my lovely brother created me, he neglected to share with me a truly physical form.” He explained, walking in a calm circle around the Hermits as Xisuma grit his teeth in the centre. “You cannot touch me, but I can touch you.”

To prove his point, Ex yanked on Cleo’s hair. The girl yelped and Ex vanished into her shadow, stepping out of Xisuma’s and scowling at his hand. When he opened it, fiery stolen strands fell from his palm. Ex raised what Iskall guessed was an eyebrow as he scrutinized Cleo. “Really, Xisuma? Respawn. Failed respawn at that. Oh, you really do belong in the Overworld.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, shadow man. Shut up.” Cleo snapped.

“Yeah!” Cheered False, because she wanted to be supportive.

Ex smiled when Xisuma shouldered him off of his back, tilting his head at the Hermits. “They’re cute, aren’t they? I guess that’s why you like them.” Ex said.

It had never occurred to the Hermits that being Voidkind, Xisuma had ever looked any different. And yet looking at the thing meant to be his brother, they looked nothing alike. Xisuma was humanoid oppose from the thick, discoloured skin and strange biology. With his helmet on, he just looked like a six-foot-tall man with a serious fear of germs. The thing looming next to him was very similar to a slug with arms. Apparently Voidkind were large creatures, averaging around seven or eight feet tall, made of void and stars and blackholes. They wore capes much like the one Xisuma then wore, but the average cape was so large it concealed the Voidkind’s entire body. Their arms parted from the matter of their bodies begrudgingly and their faces were hard to make out. Most facial expressions were guesses. This thing in front of them unnerved all of them, even when they weren’t thinking about how this creature was at one point their Admin.

“Ex, Doc was right. Enough games.” Xisuma sighed. His brother visibly deflated, sliding closer to the two cyborgs to lean into their faces. Doc hissed and Iskall leaned back. Ex just smiled as Xisuma clapped his hands. “Leave my friends alone and pay attention! I need your help.”

“You need _my_ help?” Ex gasped; a clawed hand pressed against his chest. The creature seemed to grow taller and Xisuma took a tiny step back. “Look at you, brother, the brave, independent earth-walker coming to _me,_ a worthless Voider, for _help_. I will not _help_ you or your pitiful Hermits.” Ex reared up and leaned over his brother, baring his long, white teeth. “I will make them watch what happens when a magician loses control of their magic.”

Then, Ex froze. He snarled loudly but could not move. Scar stood by the door, shakily holding his second edition of Statues with his left hand stretched out towards the Voidkind. Tango high-fived his casting hand and grinned. Iskall and Doc smirked, brandishing weapons with False. Cleo just flipped her hair over her shoulder with a giggle and walked towards her casting friend as Xisuma stood taller. “Brother, it appears you have lost control of yourself.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” Hissed Ex.

Pointing out a small spell line to Scar, Cleo smiled proudly when Scar twisted his hand and Ex wrestled himself to the ground, his arms pinned behind his back as his starry cheek pressed into the floor. Xisuma twinged and his smile fell.

“Then don’t talk with Xisuma. Talk with us.” Doc grinned.

“I will kill _all of you_ , disgusting little mortals, you will regret _ever_ touching me, I am your _god_ , I am-” Xisuma cut off his brother by crouching down next to his head and whispering. “We both know you are as mortal as I am, Ex. You best tell us what you know about the Deep End as of late.”

The bigger of the Voidkind looked to Scar where he shook with the effort of holding down such a powerful creature. Ex smiled, tilting his head further into the floor. “A new caster I see. Impressive you’re able to hold me down. So sweet what you are doing for your friends. I can only wonder, little wizard, what you and they will do the moment their swords do not work and all there is none to fall back on but this silly magic book. You will fail, and they will hate you.” Everyone watched in horror as Ex’s starry faced warped into that of Cub’s.

In the business man’s voice, Ex said, “They will never trust you again.”

Ex’s face filtered calmly through the members of the party. “You will return home a fool.”

Finally, Ex took on Grian’s appearance and voice. “And your friend will die.”

Iskall kicked Ex in the face just for the pleasure of it. He didn’t expect to actually connect with something solid after seeing what Ex did to Doc. Ex snarled in pain before gnashing his teeth and Xisuma reeled, clutching his head.

Running up to her Admin, False cupped his face and smeared the black blood running from his nose with a frown. Xisuma grabbed her wrists and pushed her away, snuffling until the bleeding stopped for the most part. He glared at Ex, who glared at Iskall, who looked between the brothers.

“We may say we’re brothers, but we are mostly the same person.” Xisuma grunted.

The not brothers, then.

Ex giggled at Iskall, his own face of stars back. “That was fun. Do it again.”

It was that moment that the group realized Scar’s magic had dropped. The Voidkind’s heads had stopped ringing and Cleo’s focus was back on Scar, who was shaking, his hand no longer glowing gentle blue. Scar was struggling to get the thin Deep End air into his lungs, shaking slightly as his head buzzed. Cleo grabbed his wrist and tenderly pushed it down as the man delved further into his panic.

Sparing one glance at his brother, Xisuma went to action. He took Cleo’s place in front of Scar and helped the man sit on the carpeted floor. Behind him, Xisuma heard the rattle of his party’s armour line up to defend them from Ex. Xisuma smiled at Scar as the man’s eyes flittered from his face, to the ceiling, the far wall, to Ex. Scar shook his head as choked, scared sounds escaped him.

“Scar. Could you tell me five things you can see?” The Admin asked.

Floundering, Scar squeezed his eyes shut and a few burning tears slid down his face. The man shook his head and swallowed. “Y-you, Cleo, my, my spell book, uh… the archways, my cape…”

“Four things you can feel now.”

“ _Afraid_.”

“Four things you can physically touch, Scar.”

“The carpet.” Scar blurted, digging his fingers into it. “The, the silk lining of my cape.” Scar grasped at his hair, rubbing his head as it ached. “The magic in the room, my hair?”

“Good,” Xisuma smiled, holding Scar’s hands sweetly to prevent him from hurting himself. “Three things you can smell?”

“You,” Scar said, taking deep breaths through his nose. “Sweat. Something… sweet that’s burning? That can’t be good.

Xisuma chuckled this time. “I doubt it is in this place. What’s two things you can hear?”

“You. Me breathing.” Scar said.

“What can you taste?”

“Tango’s really spicy demon food.” Smiled Scar. Tango complained from where he stood, holding his golden sword at the ready in case Ex got any bright ideas.

“Are you feeling better?” Xisuma asked his friend, clasping his shoulder. Scar nodded and rubbed his face, leaning back on the walls. Impressive walls, they were.

In fact, the entire situation was incredibly impressive. Seven mortals (was Xisuma mortal? Scar didn’t know) stood in a land no mortals should be, inside a glorious castle that somehow made _purpur_ look good. The rooms were small but ceilings tall, giving them a grand feeling. Lighting was dim but effective, it’s reflections on the polished obsidian bouncing through the room. Archways connected the rooms, all leading towards a large staircase the party had first trailed down when they landed on the balcony. The whole building had a very I’m-A-Villian-And-Will-Kill-You vibe but Scar was digging how everything worked together to make that atmosphere fit.

They had found Ex in front of a large fireplace playing what must have been the End equivalent of a piano, which just made it worse. He was the cheesiest villain Scar had ever seen and he was _still_ terrifying. The Voidkind was immediately uncooperative and frankly annoying to the point where Doc just _had_ to throw him around a little to make him shut up.

Xisuma stood from where he sat with Scar. Ex stood where Xisuma had left him, the Hermits facing him all with weapons drawn. Xisuma stepped through their line and towards his brother (himself? His old self?) with a sigh. “One of our own is missing, Ex. And us Hermits are loyal as anything. We’ll derp out way through this stupid, backwards place until we find him with or without your help. But I know, as much as you don’t want to, you can feel the absence I feel. You’ll carry this pain as long as I do. You officially have a horse in this race, brother.”

Ex snarled. “I hate you.”

“I know.” Said Xisuma softly. “I love you.”

Ex rolled his eyes passionately and sat down on the bench of his instrument just as dramatically. “What do you want from me?” he asked, the giant ball of void doubling into himself pitifully.

The Hermits behind the brothers relaxed. Cleo and Doc sat with Scar and watched carefully. False kept her weapon drawn while Tango began taking in the space for the first time and Iskall examined small sculptures on the expansive number of shelves. All still listened in diligently, but it was easier to pretend this was a fun fieldtrip than a life-saving rescue mission.

“The Watchers in these parts. Who are they?”

“Watchers?” Scoffed Ex. “I wouldn’t let those things anywhere near me. None here.”

“The nearest ones, then.”

“I don’t know much of them really. I know they’re called the Amendments. I believe there are… four of them? Perhaps five.” Ex shrugged. “They have great influence on your little mortal worlds. They believe themselves to be… saviors, of types. They kill off the weak mortals to keep the strong mortals progressing, they say. I bet they just enjoy the destruction.”

Xisuma rubbed his face and nodded, glancing back to his friends. False gave him a small smile and Ex tilted his head, leaning further into his seat to ask, “What has you so worried about Watchers, X? They don’t bother us. They know better than to tread into your territory. They’re annoying, but not suicidal.”

“One of my friends was an experiment of theirs.” Xisuma said. Ex raised an eyebrow as if to say go on. The Hermits stopped their exploring and began paying attention too. “He was an Admin in a world he had to manually update. That’s no easy task so it could only happen every few months. The Watchers thought he needed to be taught how to be an Admin and stole him before destroying the world.”

“Grian was an Admin?” Iskall asked.

“Jeez.” Doc murmured.

“It was a place called Evo. They didn’t change worlds though, like we do, but the world changed around them. I guess it was enough of an abnormality for the Watchers to feel the need to get involved.” Xisuma threw over his shoulder. Cleo frowned a little and pulled open Scar’s bag, digging through the magic books carefully stored away.

“We have two Admins!” Tango grinned. “Aw, hells yeah.”

Ex laughed and shook his head. “That’s not a good thing, demon. Ever notice how glitches and other… misfortunes follow you everywhere?”

“Stop trying to change the subject.” Xisuma snapped, closing his eyes to take a deep breath. Being around his brother was _exhausting_ and while he loved his friends their constant questions _did not help._ “Ex, where are The Amendments? How do we get to them?”

“Watcher Hunter Xisuma Void. You’re all grown up.” Ex cheered. “They live on the outer ring of Xeir. Maybe… two days travel. If you’re lucky. And nothing kills you. And the mortals have (“Hey, I’m immortal too!” Tango pouted) enough juice for those little wings.”

“Wait wait wait.” Doc said, holding up his metal hand and glaring Ex down. The red of his cybernetic eye flashed for a moment and he appeared to scan Ex, reading his vitals. While Doc should have guessed this, they were all over the place, and most were so low Ex shouldn’t have been standing in front of him. Weird. “How do we know you’re not lying? Or leading us to the wrong Watchers? And what _is_ a Watcher, Xisuma?”

“Your average Voidkind is… they live like Ex here. Usually on their own, guarding their territory. Sometimes they’ll take a shining to a mortal and use their magic to protect them in life threatening situations. They may not be as annoying as Ex, but he’s our best example.” Ex rolled his eyes and Xisuma ran a hand through his knotted hair. “Watchers are Voidkind. Old Voidkind. There’s a lot of them, but they hate each other, so they spread out. Each one thinks that they’re essentially gods. They think that mortals need their guidance… Watchers are just Voidkind on steroids. Super old, super big, really powerful, terribly territorial, and all around awful.”

“You avoid them at all costs.” Ex added.

“So a group of Watchers has Grian?” Scar said, looking at his party. “This not good, not good, not good.”

“It’s okay, Scar. We’ll find him.” Xisuma promised.

“Don’t lie to the wizard, X. It’s not okay.” Ex said, his usual teasing tone gone. “A Watcher Pride is playing with a mortal. When has that story ever ended well? And you, despite your best efforts, are in no shape to square off with one. You haven’t been in the Deep Void for years. You will die on your way to Xeir. There is no respawn here, no second try, no support system. The other Voidkind will only see a haggle of mortals trouncing through their territory and you _know_ what will happen when they find you.”

“Shut it.” Tango snarled, baring his fangs. He was a happy guy, but threaten his friends? No way.

“Listen up buddy, no one gets to talk to our Admin like that but us.” False huffed.

“Well,” Grinned Xisuma. “You could always come with us. Some brotherly bonding?”

“No, no way Jose…” Doc murmured, shaking his head. Ex looked extremely surprised by the offer. Cleo gasped from her book reading and clasped her hands. “Oh, yes, please! This will be fun! Not dangerous at all! Fun!”

“Cleo…” Scar hissed from the side of his mouth. “ _I’m_ the one who will have to restrain him if he goes…” Scar swirled his pointer finger around his temple and whistled low.

“No, wait, this is a great plan! We’ll have the party of doom!” Iskall beamed, getting a small round of groans. “I’m serious! We have redstoners, fighters, builders, a magician, two Voidkind, and whatever Cleo is! (“Hey!”) If we work as a team and go in with a game plan we’ll be fine.”

“Iskall is right,” Tango frowned. “It’s not like we’re going to turn around anyways. Come with us or let us die, Ex, but Xisuma said it best. Hermits are loyal to the end. Our server’s trickster gremlin man is in danger and we’re going to save him!”

“Trickster?” Ex asked, rearing up. He loomed over the Hermits and they stumbled back, Ex’s fiery eyes big and piercing. “Oh. Oh dear.”

“Ex, your X is showing.” Cleo said distantly, voice high with fear.

“Trickster... _Tricer_.” Ex shook his head and brought himself down to his normal height. “That’s it. I’m coming. First, you are getting disguises.”


	7. Chapter Seven

“Now this is a concerning image.” Said Joe, looking at the Mooshroom island.

“It was here when I came to build my iron shop.” Mumbo frowned.

“Who else has seen it?”

“I’m guessing everyone. It’s kind of hard to miss, mate.”

The two hermits sat next to each other in two boats facing the shopping district. From the center of the large biome sprouted a formidable tower. Stretched almost to build height was a tower of obsidian, purpur, endstone, dark glass, and worst of all, bedrock. It was a thin structure, but it’s height could draw the eye of anyone and make them worry for the structural stability. Where the tower stabbed into the ground was a spatter of bedrock that climbed up the sides for a short distance, which was probably how it still stood. Purpur windows filled with intricate stained glass stood at least four times a human’s height on every floor, which there were many of. Each level was separated by an overhanging lip of endstone bricks and purpur to break up the dark walls of obsidian. At the top the tower reached it’s widest, a long beam of endrods reaching towards the sky where clouds seemed to gather.

“Do you think Xisuma did this?” asked Joe as they sailed towards land. “Kind of a… heyy guys! All is good in the Deep Void! Have this rockin’ tower!”

“I wish I could say I hope so, Joe.” Mumbo frowned. He walked over a small hill and towards the structure. “But I don’t think this is anything nice.”

At the grand doors of the building were two large, mostly shapeless statues of obsidian perched on bedrock podiums. They were giant, two or three times the height of _Mumbo,_ who really hoped the statues exaggerated the size of these things and these things were like unicorns or gryphons, _not real_. They were shaped very much like slugs right up to their heads, where their maws opened to show long teeth of endrods. Their arms were outstretched, both clawed hands holding big endrod torches. The statues sported elytra-like wings that were just shy of blocking the door, shimmering and somewhat translucent. Translucent obsidian. Why not.

“Huh. Weird.” Joe said absently beside Mumbo. When the redstoner turned, Joe had swiped his finger along the door and collected something like looked a lot like thick water from the obsidian carvings. The temporary Admin popped the finger in his mouth and scowled. “Eck.”

“Joe! You _spoon_!” Mumbo cried, waiting for Joe to combust, or worse, turn into one of the things on the podium.

“I’m fiiine,” Joe promised, looking at the large door for what is was. “Don’t know how we’ll get that open.”

“You want to go inside?” Squawked Mumbo.

“Of course I do. Don’t you?”

“No!!”

“Hermit Challenges! I challenge you! You’ve been _challenged_!”

“That’s not how it works.” Pouted Mumbo.

Joe pulled out his communicator and made sure to grin at Mumbo.

_JoeHills: Howdy y’all. If everyone could convene at the shopping district it would be appreciated, Mumbo and I are unable to open a door._

_IJevin: You’re summoning the entire server to help you open a door?_

_JoeHills: It is a very important door._

_Stressmonster101: Coming! :D_

Soon enough, a group of Hermits stood before the strange building. Some were busy building or mining or progressing the industry like Iskall had asked of them, but most were in attendance. Beef, Stress, TFC, Rendog, Bdubs, Cub, Impulse, Zedaph, and of course Mumbo and Joe stood before the tower in awe. Terrified awe, maybe, but awe.

“So… what is it?” Beef asked.

“And that is why we must open the doors.” Joe replied.

“Well then my friends!” Impulse grinning, jumping towards the fissure between the two large doors. It was big enough his fingers fit. “Let’s see what this is!”

Zedaph ran forwards too. Rendog and Bdubs were quick to help, resulting in the four of them using all their weight to shift the right door to an open position. After the other attendees spent a good five minutes watching them struggle and laughing at the strange situation, they decided the giant door was no use and collapsed into a heap of pulled muscles on the ground.

“You have no imagination.” Stress laughed, putting her flower crown on the ground and blowing it a sweet kiss. The flowers grew vines when Stress dusted them with something that looked like a radioactive type of bone meal, and the vines grew bigger, then thicker, and began crawling towards the door. The four muscle men yelped and scrambled out of the way as the vines wormed their way between the two doors. Thin tendrils became thicker until the door had to move or the plants had to break. As Stress held her focus eyes closed and smiling, the plant’s resilience won and the door moved with a sickening crunch.

The sound of _obsidian_ moving as a door of all things rattled through the open space in a sharp echo. The vines retreated into Stress’ crown and the druid placed it back on her head with a small frown, the group staring at the looming space that led into nothing but darkness.

Eventually it was Beef and Bdubs who stepped close and pulled it open the rest of the way (quite easily now that it had been dislodged). Inside of the fairly simple structure was a small room. Through the center shot the beam of a beacon which illuminated the spiral staircase aiming towards the high-up ceiling. The lower floor was built in a circle, the walls lined with more of the terrifying statues. These ones, however, could be told apart. Each only looked different, even if only slightly. They were backlit by small gaps in the wall, stuffed with endrods and covered by black glass. What came of it was a weak, eerie glow.

Impulse went first with his sword drawn, taking careful steps and looking out for tripwires. Behind him. Bdubs burst into action with his favourite axe, running through the large empty space swinging at anything that could have been hiding, invisible in the air. Upon them both finding nothing, and the anxious Hermits getting a good laugh from Impulse’s unimpressed face, Joe edged towards the stairs.

“Now I suppose as temporary Admin extraordinaire it’s my work to go first…” He said, putting a foot on the end stone stair. TFC smacked Joe on the shoulder and began walking up with the doubtful poet. Slowly, the Hermits in attendance followed after.

The second floor opened wider; the walls thinner to allow one to see the stained-glass work. Joe was left in awe of the artisanship. The group fanned out from the staircase in the center, looking at the large images in wonder. The ground was covered in glowing purple carpet (sea lanterns, Impulse said, without checking), to illuminate the carved purpur window sills and the shining obsidian walls. The ceiling was flat, but from it dripped endrods like heavenly rain. Each Hermit stepped up to a window to examine the picture for what the building could have been.

In front of Stress was quite a beautiful picture. A magenta creature filled with blinking stars and swirling shapes reached out into what Stress guessed was very dead and very black earth. From the creatures long, clawed fingertips, its colour leaked into the earth and filled the black soil with magenta life. The sun rose behind the creature as clouds parted overhead like heavy rains had just passed. Thorned flowers filled the bottom corners of the mosaic glass, leaning into the creature’s healing touch. The druid felt at peace knowing whoever built this castle was so peaceful.

Ren’s window also depicted the large creature, this one however fully black oppose from a few silver studs. It stood at the top of the mosaic with its arms outstretched, light pouring from it. Below, what Ren saw as silhouettes of people stood either kneeling or standing with their hands in the air, all facing the creature. A little conceited, Ren thought, but cool nonetheless. The people looked happy, even without faces. The creature was serene even in the static pose. Ren wanted to look like that one day, a hero for everyone to marvel.

His shining armour left a small reflection on the dark glass as Impulse looked up, standing perhaps a bit too close to see it all comfortably, but he saw enough. A human, he thought, perhaps a demon or something else humanoid, was walking down a what appeared to be a ragged mineshaft. In the bottom right corner, a dark, black shadow was curled around a handful of shiny diamonds. The shadow’s startling white eyes lit the mineshaft for the mortal, exposing other resources like redstone in the caves the mortal hadn’t even reached. The mortal followed the light eagerly, Impulse smiling at the scene. Whatever that creepy thing was, it sure was helpful. Impulse was already thinking of ways the new mob could be used in a farm.

Zedaph saw a small child in his. A large, grey creature held out big clawed hands to the child, filled with pistons and pouches of redstone and comparators and observers. It seemed to be a strange thing to give a child that looked no older than five, but oh well, thought Zedaph. From the thing’s eyes, rays of light rained on the child, illuminating what looked like wreckages in the background. The child accepted the gift happily, as any kid would, reasoned the Hermit. Even if the kid looked happy, it was kinda weird to see this creepy god-like figure giving a tiny child redstone to what… save the world from the wreckages revealed by the light? Zedaph tried to stop reading so far into it.

The last of the Vex’s whispers had been filtering out of Cub’s subconscious for the previous few weeks, but staring at the window he could hear their uneasy gossip again. A mortal stood facing the viewer. Large, clawed hands covered their face as nothing but void stood behind them. Right underneath the depiction of the mortal was what Cub guessed to be the same person curled into ball. Below that, was the mortal standing the exact same way as the first position, eyes open wide and glowing with purple. The void no longer surrounding them, but instead held up their glowing (at least the glass work made them appear to glow) hands. Whatever the image meant; it gave Cub an uneasy feeling.

Beef had been lost to the jungle of the Hermit’s fifth world for a long time. After that, he had sought out balance. Here, he saw it. A tall, grey creature stood proudly in the center of the mosaic. To one side, brightly coloured (even if the palate was still limited to different shades of purple, white, and black) glass painted imagery of simplicity beautiful farms, quaint houses, and strange contraptions. To the other side, dark glass made up pictures of industrial farms, crowded cities, and large machines. The creature seemed to be holding them both by reins in it’s hands.

After being lost much like Beef, Bdubs liked to think he was a calmer person. He had found his calling in building and liked to believe he had moved past his greed and what some could call a bloodthirst. While he would have liked to see something else, Bdubs saw a war in his window. The lower half was filled by a battle field, tiny, 2d glass people running towards each other. In the center of the window, a large creature that sparkled when Bdubs tilted his head reached into the battle field, holding the warring figures apart. Over the thing’s shoulders, if the smooth slope of their back could be considered shoulders, a purple sun rose over the people. It was cute, Bdubs thought.

Since the windows were so large, it was easy to fit detail into the art pieces. Mumbo immediately saw an iron farm in his window. In fact, it looked very familiar to the iron farm Tango had built in the beginning of the previous season before he went back to the Nether for a few months to deal with ~family business~. Yet, it was missing a chunk. And that chunk was in a very large, clawed hand. The structure was beginning to topple and hapless villagers were running away from the carnage. The clawed hand led to a large thing much like what were shown on the statues, bright purple eyes looking almost angry as the beautiful redstone contraption fell apart under its hands. Mumbo shivered as he started at the glowing eyes.

TFC frowned at his window for a long, long time. He saw one of the creatures depicted on every window looming over a mortal that appeared to be human. The mortal held a large sword and was prepared to swing at the creature reaching out to him. The creature held things like books and magic items, something TFC guessed was meant to represent shared knowledge. Light poured from the creature and onto the mortal, their shaggy looking hair and bright purple sweater. The mortal seemed to have their own light, fighting against the creature’s. TFC noticed, that among the light, there were tiny 2d glass figures of other mortals. Some looked panicked, others calm. The mortal with the sword appeared to be standing in a black liquid of sorts. As the black liquid soaked the mortal’s pants, it turned into purple. Even though it was just a piece of glass work, the eldest Hermit could have sworn he saw the trapped mortal shaking in the window. It made TFC uneasy and he decided to walk away.

The final window was probably the strangest. To Joe, at least, and Joe was a pretty strange guy.

At the top of the window was a peaceful scene. A strange creature like the ones shown in the other windows laid down like the blanket of night, starry skin blinking peacefully at the Hermit watching. They seemed restful, unlike the others. Yet, the blackness of their being seemed to drip further down the window. The black dripping led into another image of the creature. They seemed uncomfortable, maybe even in pain, fluid body twisted into strange shapes. Large, purple eyes looked to Joe as if for help. That image led into two at the bottom. On the left, the creature trying to push itself up on its hands (and knees? Does the shapeless body count as knees?). It was not as solid, not as black, as before, but dreary grey. On the right, was a humanoid, who was on their hands and knees. Their skin was a strange purple tinted grey, and they wore, small, flat pieces of black armour over grey clothing. A few feet away from their struggling form, was a helmet.

Joe’s eyes widened as he looked at the story of his Admin.


	8. Chapter Eight

While Tango had wanted to represent for the Nether while in the Deep Void, he had to admit that the traditional wear of these regions was pretty cool too.

The Nether was obviously hot. Nether wear was thin, flowy, and weighed down by bells, gold embellishments, and was mostly red with fantastical yellow patterns. But because the Deep End was so cold and so hostile, the clothing was made to hold in warmth instead of deflect it, and it happened to make a great camouflage. Everyone was given a giant black cape riddled with stars, heavy black masks with blackholes and super novas painted where things like eyes should be, and pairs of bigger, darker elytra that Ex promised were sourced responsibly and definitely weren’t torn off the back of trespassers.

Tango was fine with all of this. It was super cool. Until Ex wanted to take his horns.

“I’m sorry mate, they’ve got to go.” Ex said solemly.

“No, no way!” Tango gasped, holding his long horns protectively. “These are my babies! You can’t have em!”

“Don’t they grow back in like- a week?” Asked False. Tango hissed at her and pouted.

“Ex is right, Tango.” X sighed, adjusting the elytra on Doc’s back to prevent them from catching on the plates of his cybernetics. “We can hide everything else. Even your eyes. But the horns are a dead give away. If other Voidkind don’t want mortals here, imagine how upset they’ll be if they find out another immortal from an entirely different dimension is in their territory.”

“You’re not cutting off my horns.” Tango snarled.

Cut to five minutes later, Scar and Cleo are holding their editions of _Statues_ and a very angry demon. Tango thrashed in the grip of their magic, whining about how his horns were his best feature and if they really were his friends they’d let him go and he’d turn around and go back to the Overworld alone if it meant he could keep his horns just let me go please I just polished them before we left-

Iskall and False made quick work of Tango’s horns. On the count of three, the two brought down their swords on the offending appendages and lopped off the long, red horns Tango cherished so much. The demon pouted for awhile, but when he realized he could attach them to the mask like tusks and make it look like he had killed another demon and taken the horns as a trophy- well that was pretty sick too. The others of the party certainly Did Not give each other the look of “of course he’d be over it in two minutes the little baby”.

Now equipped with full uniforms and wings that wouldn’t require so many rockets (the Hermits would have to be careful. Fire a rocket near another Voidkind and their gig was up), Ex was laying out a dusty map to help remind Xisuma of their direction.

“Xeir isn’t awfully far, it’s just not really close. We’ll have to go through Hoifen territory to get to the edge of Xeir, but there’s no man land between Hoifen and I and between Hoifen and Xeir. We can stop in Xeir to rest up for the night, they’re actually pretty relaxed over there.” Ex shrunk himself down a little to help some of the Hermits see the map too. “Then the Amendments are outside of the city on the other side. Their territory is huge because there’s five of them, from here,” Ex pointed to the edge of Xeir City, and all the way across the map to where it ended. “to past here.”

“Is their castle right in the center?” False asked warily. Ex wasn’t exaggerating, it was a huge territory, and False didn’t want to spend another however-long-it-has-been flying through endless void unless she was going home with Grian.

“No, look.” Said Iskall, pointing out a small marker.

“There’s nothing in that direction but everything in this direction. If you keep your most defensive place close to the action you can guarantee you at least hear of an invasion before it starts or finish your invasion before they can put up defences.” Explained Doc. The rest, including Ex, gave him a hesitant look. “Hey. Just cause I’m a Hermit doesn’t mean I wasn’t a creeper. This is why creepers always end up in human settlements.”

Xisuma clapped Doc on the back and gave him a tired smile. “It’s good to know. I think everyone should rest for the night. Scar, maybe Ex can show you some void magic?”

“Oh, golly, uh, sure, why not?” Scar laughed nervously, already reaching for a notepad.

“It’s not night, is it? I don’t feel tired.” Cleo said.

“The void can mess with internal clocks. Only people with Void eyes can see the light levels change. But it’s about midnight. We were flying for a pretty long time.” Xisuma explained. He nodded towards the stairs. “There’s some spare rooms that-a-way if you guys wanna hunker down. In fact, let’s call it a night, we can do magic tomorrow.”

The Hermits were more than happy to crash in the very cool castle. They decided to share a room because, well, they were Hermits, and beds were ridiculously big. Kicking off heavy armour and shrugging off heavier backpacks and equally restraining elytras was the best feeling any of them could have asked for in that moment. False found out there was a shower that dispensed water, not sludge that would stain her pink, or faucets that could spit bats into her hair, or something weird like that. She showered her day’s stresses away and returned to the bedroom to find Scar reading Tango, Iskall, and Cleo a bedtime story while Doc tried to block them out.

False giggled and jumped into bed, curling up next to the Doc. The creeper hissed, but False knew it was playful and pat the back of his head. She shut her eyes and let Scar’s happy voice lead her to the sleep she didn’t know she needed until the opportunity was given to her.

After False and Doc drifted off, Tango complained about the loss of his horns for a bit, because the Hermits had to listen in the quiet room. It felt like they were alone in the universe in that strange place and it was awfully comforting. Tango explained he didn’t really care about the horns themselves, they would grow back quickly and losing them wasn’t painful, but horns held powerful status to a demon. He was excited to grow them from the beginning, he said, because if he treated them right this time, they would grow even bigger.

He sprawled out over Cleo’s lap with his head resting on Doc’s leg when he fell asleep, leaving Iskall with Cleo and Scar.

“How ya holding up?” Cleo asked. She was good at reading people. Iskall had hardware in his face, so it did provide a challenge. Still, his human eye was pointed down even when the group was laughing, and Iskall always seemed to have his lips pressed into a thin line. He looked tired, which was fair, but Cleo didn’t want him overthinking things. It’s like Joe said to her that one time, “Thinking is so much boring than just doing.”

Iskall shrugged. His voice was quiet for the sake of his sleeping friends and the tightness of his throat. “I want to find Grian and get out of here. I don’t trust Ex one bit but he’s our best chance so… I’m just riding with it, I guess. This feels like the Adventure of Doom.”

“I gotta agree with you dude.” Scar sighed, leaning his head on Cleo’s shoulder. “I’m worried X is gonna need my magic one day and the only thing I’ll be able to do is something with _Statues_.”

“Well I know one thing,” Cleo smiled, leaning back into the well-stuffed headboard that supported her back and let her get comfy without disrupting the sleeping beauty Tango. “I trust Xisuma. And if Xisuma trusts Ex, then I trust Ex. I know that Grian is a stubborn brat too, so he’ll be fine. So will you, Scar. Promise. Just because I never learned magic beyond _Statues_ doesn’t mean you can’t. You’ll be the best wizard on this server by next week, promise.”

Iskall sighed and laid down in the small space next to Cleo and Tango’s legs. “I guess. Yeah. If anyone would survive something like this it’d be Grian. G’night guys.”

“You’re pretty great Cleo.” Scar yawned and laid down too, half-leaning on Doc cause the creeper’s cybernetics ran warm like a heated blanket.

“I know.” The zombie smiled, feeling a small ache in her heart. She shut her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep.

After taking a shower too, Xisuma snuck into the room to check on his friends. They were all asleep piled up on the bed, some in different stages of entanglement than others. It made the Admin smile as he saw his Hermits relaxed for the first time since he saw the melting trees of the spruce forest. Xisuma decided against going to sleep himself in order to prepare for the journey as he was surprised Doc wasn’t. The Admin pulled on a thin rope by the door which pulled the endrods hanging from the ceiling into the rafters, lowering the light levels in the room. As Xisuma closed the door he heard Doc’s sleeping breaths turn into a strange mix of loud snores and broken hisses, laughing under his breath.

The Admin jumped when he found his brother brooding at the end of the hall.

“You know full well the Void doesn’t adhere to the concept of time. What are you playing at, Xisuma?”

“Most of them are human. They’re tired.” Xisuma said, walking past his brother into the open room from before. He wanted a second look at that map. Ex followed silently, Xisuma relishing in the beautiful sound until Ex leaned over the table.

“I’m glad you’re realizing bringing them here was a mistake.” He sighed.

“They wouldn’t let me leave without them.” Xisuma admitted, though he would later deny blushing about it. “I tried to come alone, I really did, but they said I had to take some of them along in case I got hurt.”

“Which you will.”

“Quiet.”

Ex shrugged, head lolling over the papers. Xisuma moved to the bookshelf and pulled out a second map titled _Hoifen_ as well as his old cartography tools. Ex watched his brother, watched himself, lay the new items out on the table and start mapping their route. The main factors affecting the route were how fast it was and how safe it was. What was the chance of a Hoifen finding them? If they went right through the territory in a straight line (the fastest), they would definitely run into a Hoifen. If the party went the Void equivalent of South of the territory, that chance was somewhat decreased. If they went the equivalent of North, it was nearing a high seventy percent chance they’d make it out without even being detected by another Voidkind. Unfortunately, North would also be slower.

“You’re thinking too hard about it.” Ex said.

“You’re talking too much about it.” X replied.

Ex echoed Xisuma in a nagging tone and continued to watch Xisuma ponder over the routes. In a small, silver marker, Xisuma traced their two best routes over the black paper with a thoughtful frown. Ex took the marker and made the line aiming South thicker.

“I don’t think your human friend will have much more time.” He said quietly, like he didn’t really want to say it. “Just this once, I think fast and dangerous is better than slow and steady.”

“Just this once?” Xisuma smiled, chuckling a little before he realized what Ex had said. “What do you know about Grian?”

Ex ducked his head. Even though Xisuma knew Ex was just an old shell of him, nothing to be truly feared, Voidkind were still terrifying to a humanoid, which the brothers (person?) were. Seeing the hulking form of Ex try to shrink into itself, the stars on his body dimming carefully as the super novas that were his eyes blinked out of existence for a short moment was unnerving. It looked almost like Ex was shutting down, taking a break from the world. His lights would turn on again when he woke up like they always did. Xisuma shuffled as his fabricated skin felt a little off in that moment and he turned away from his map work entirely. “Ex, talk to me.”

“The demon called him Trickster.” Ex shrugged.

“Grian is good at pranks.” Xisuma agreed. “What does that matter?”

“The Amendments named themselves after the whole see no evil do no evil thing. They claim to be the incarnations of right and wrong.” Ex explained, backing away from the mapping table. Speker, the oldest one, is like Speaker, right? I’m sure if we went back a billion years and translated Speker into Void it would be Speaker. I’ll bet all the others are named along the same vein.”

“Okay…” Xisuma said. “See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil, do no evil? What about them?”

“There have been… murmurings as of late.”

“Murmurings?”

“Rumours, you could say.”

“Ex.”

“People are saying there’s a new Amendment after something like half a billion years. It’s a big thing because they don’t really fit in with the whole Amendment thing.” Ex didn’t meet his brother’s eye, sitting on one of the couches and summoning a book so he would have a reason not to. “Their name is Tricer, I think. Some are getting really scared because they think that Tricer is going to be the incantation of evil the other four have to save the mortals from.”

Xisuma summoned the book from Ex’s lap into his hand. It landed in his palm with a soft thud and Ex scrunched his eyes closed to sigh as Xisuma’s voice cut through the tense air like steel. “You’re telling me they Amendments have turned Grian into a Watcher?”


	9. Chapter Nine

Scar woke first. He had no way of telling what time it was considering the lack of sun, but he felt boneless from a goodnight’s sleep. Cleo had fallen sideways onto the pillow he was using, curled around his head like a question mark. Doc had his arm tossed over Scar’s hip as a heavy, warm weight as the creeper continued to snore. Not so G.O.A.T now, thought Scar. Tango had managed to somehow lay on top of _everyone_ sprawled over their legs.

The wizard laughed softly and extracted himself from the bed as carefully as he could, he had to stand up on the plush mattress, step over the tangle of legs, and then jump down to the floor quietly. Glancing over his shoulder with a grimace, Scar breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no one else had stirred. Scar slipped out the door, looking up and down the long hallway in an attempt to remind himself which way to go.

Right is always right, the Hermit with no direction declared to himself. So, he went right. He amazingly did not get lost.

As Scar descended the stairs, he heard the voices of Ex and Xisuma grow louder. He didn’t want to intrude but also had no where else to go, so he took his time with his walk down the hallway, admiring the architecture and examining the archways and the decorations and the excellent use of limited palate. While the whole castle still had a very villain aesthetic, Scar felt a whole lot safer.

“I need to ask one more thing,” Xisuma said as Scar approached the playing room. The deep sounds of Ex’s instrument filled the halls suddenly, long notes sounding like melodic wails. It was exactly what Scar expected of an instrument coming from the void. “what’s the likelihood of breaking the Watcher magic?”

Scar froze up. Was he meant to hear this? He should hear this, since from the sounds of things so far magic was his territory in this rescue mission, but Xisuma wasn’t asking him or knowingly asking Ex in front of him so- “Well. I don’t know the Amendments that well, so all of my knowledge about them is rumour. Rumour is exaggerated but… It doesn’t sound good, X. They’re _ancient_. Some think they’re the first Voidkind ever. If they’re using some weird creation magic to control Grian, breaking the magic could mean breaking Grian. Mortal bodies can’t… they can’t… they’re not good vessels for magic like that.”

The tune slowed down. The Void Piano, as Scar named it, cried as Ex’s fingers drifted over the worn keys. The musician knew the song well and didn’t have to think about the notes as he played them, but he leaned into the instrument like he was focusing. Scar entered the room then, taking small footsteps. He deemed, when he saw the scared look Xisuma gave him, that he should have definitely not heard that end of the conversation.

His Admin’s face broke into a smile where Xisuma sat on the couch, patting the couch next to him. “Morning Scar! Sleep okay?”

“Yeah, yeah totally,” Said Scar, waving his hand dismissively. Act cool, act cool, he told himself as he sat. “Like a _baby_.”

“I thought babies notoriously sleep poorly.” Said Ex.

“Do you want to work on some magic while we wait for the others to get up? Then we can eat and get out of here.” Xisuma suggested, nodding over to Ex. His brother’s hands left the keys and the instrument gave a final hum as he stood, moving around the chair. Scar knew he had no reason to be scared of Ex now like he had before, but he seeing a seven-foot-tall creature standing over him was terrifying nonetheless. The wizard gave him an awkward smile.

“Tell me what you know so far.” Ex said, folding his hands behind his back. His stare was very calculating and Scar felt as if he was already being graded by a really mean teacher who didn’t understand that words look a little crooked sometimes because R’s look like B’s and-

“ _Statues_ , obviously. Sorry by the way.” Scar smiled sheepishly. “Statues is all… matter control. Teleportation and manipulation. It’s all very… physical. It says on the first page that it’s spells can only effect things on… I don’t know… the physical plane, I think? So only things you can touch. I think. Cleo would know more, she’s an expert. She knows the person who wrote the book.”

Xisuma curled up on the couch, just watching for now. He himself only knew Void and Admin magic, and it had been years since he even touched Void magic. He didn’t know much of what Scar could do, either, only that he was their best hope, so he stayed silent. Ex held up his hand to stop Scar’s ramblings. “While I’m enjoying the history lesson, I know plenty about _Statues_. Xisuma at least left me with a library. What other books do you have at your disposal?” Xisuma tensed at the mention of him ‘leaving’ Ex. It wasn’t like Xisuma abandoned his brother, his other half. He still sent him reading material, and new music pieces, and… Xisuma pushed those thoughts out of his mind.

“Uh, _Moving Enchantments_ , I’m starting _The Friendly Brewer_ , and I’ve gone through _Reactive Redstone_. That one is just a lot of theory about how redstone works and it’s uh… conductive energy? But the other two are exactly how they sound.” Scar shifted in his seat when Ex didn’t say anything. “I mean… I’m excited to learn more?”

“You have nothing other than physical magic?” Asked Ex, unimpressed.

“I wouldn’t classify _Moving Enchantments_ as _physical_ , per say…”

The larger of the Voidkind in the room rubbed his face and gave Xisuma a look of _oh my gods how do you do this every day_ before turning back to Scar. “ _Moving Enchantments_ is just casting enchantments onto items without a table. Enchantments may be able to defend from things like magic, but are used in a purely physical way. Therefore, physical. Do you have any mental magic? Any redirection magic? Anything other than physical?”

“Ex.” Xisuma sighed. “He’s only been using magic for a week.”

“Then you shouldn’t have brought him!” Ex snapped back, fangs unsheathing from the black matter of his face. He kept his teeth bared at his brother, his mass heaving. “If he is going to face off against Voidkind a lot tougher than us he is going to need to know these things! A potion won’t do _anything_ against a Watcher! You claim to love these mortals and you put them in danger. If _he_ is your only hope, you _better start praying_!”

Xisuma stood up from the couch and took two long strides to stand off against his brother. They were inches apart, sneering at each other, and Scar’s eyes widened when he saw the fluid void that made up Ex lean into Xisuma. The drops that came off of him fell on Xisuma’s chest plate and darkened his clothes. Ex opened his mouth but no sound came out, even though Scar could see him trying.

“Leave the Hermits alone.” Hissed Xisuma, stepping back. Ex took in a ragged breath, a large hand going to clutch at his neck. “Give Scar some mental and redirection magic. I’m going to wake the others.” The Admin disappeared through the arch way into the hall.

Ex’s red eyes shot a glare at Scar as he swallowed and advanced towards the exit too. “Shut your mouth and follow me.” His voice was hoarse.

The castle was laid out in two floors and five towers. The ground floor is where Ex had his playing room, his mapping room, and the library. It was meant to be a work space, while the upper floor is where one was meant to relax, like a meeting room and the bedrooms and bathrooms. As Scar followed Ex through the main hallway, they passed many doors, drifted under intricate archways, and passed the sparse but effective decorations, he distantly remembered that before there was Ex, there was Xisuma.

Before there was Xisuma, there was Void.

Ex spread his arms wide as the entered the room at the end of the hall, showing off his truly giant library. Scar stood in awe, looking at the endless rows of information. The library was in the largest of the towers. In the center of the room was a large circular table surrounding by couches and chairs. The walls were lined by arching bookshelves, and the further up the tower you went, the more balconies with more bookshelves there were. “Welcome to my library.”

It was disorienting when Ex stepped into the shadow of the table and came out on one of the highest balconies with two books already stacked in his arms just to grab two more. Scar quite literally gasped at the feeling of Ex walking out of his shadow. Ex gave him a very fake smile and shoved the four books into Scar’s chest.

“Start reading. Talk to me when you’re done.”

The Voidkind stepped into the shadow of the balconies and disappeared entirely. The builder Hermit walked towards a couch slowly and sat with his new reading material. The smallest book was full of basic harming spells, titled _Beginners Melee Magic_ just to tease Scar. _The Mind and Magic_ was the second book. When Scar read the description, it was truly just one hundred pages of how to read and control the minds of others. The next book was called _Reflecting: Absorption, Recasting, and Deflection_ which was a thick book about how to defend yourself and others from magic. The final book was as thick as Scar’s hand was wide. It was titled _Void Magic_ in small black letters in the corner of the leather-bound mess.

Scar looked at the pile of books with his dyslexia riddled brain and groaned into his hands.

The Hermit took out his communicator and opened a private thread with Cub.

_GoodTimesWithScar: Hey man. I know you won’t see this until I get back but I wanted to shoot you a message anyways. We’ve been here like a day and it’s crazy. X’s brother is an insane monster thing who wants me to read 1000 pages by the time we leave. I’m going to die. Grian is probably going to actually die. I’m scared._

_GoodTimesWithScar: You’re just a comforting dude so I thought to text you_

_GoodTimesWithScar: I’m just trying to figure out what you would say_

“Scar?” Cleo’s voice rang out. She walked in with two plates of food and gave him a small smile. “Hey. I brought you breakfaast! Xisuma cooked it up for us but told me Ex was putting you through magic bootcamp so… hungry?”

“Starving,” Scar admitted, rubbing his face as he made room for Cleo on the couch and gestured to the mass of paper in front of him. “I have to read this. I’m going to go insane.” He ate a piece of bacon with a pout. He did not walk to talk about it or think about it. If he could learn everything in those books through osmosis, he would do it right then and there without a second thought.

“I could read to you?” Cleo offered. Scar was going to cry.

Cleo let Scar pick which book he wanted to start with. Scar chose _Reflecting_ just because it would come in handy the soonest. He and Cleo stayed on that couch reading until Xisuma came for them. Cleo treated Scar to her opinion on the spells, the author’s writing style, and the usefulness of the spells. She went so far as to skip some of the spells entirely after just reading their names (“The _Swat N’ Swipe_? I mean, c’mon.”).

When Xisuma came Cleo had gotten Scar through what she called the “Important” spells of _Reflecting_ , some of the more potent spells of _Beginners Melee Magic,_ and the start of _The Mind and Magic._ Scar already felt a little bit better. Sure, he was scared to test out the new spells, but he wrote a cheat sheet on his arm of what he thought were the best spells out of Cleo’s best spells. If he had to dwindle those two and a half books down into one the length for a child, he had its ready right there on his arm.

“You look like a tattoo covered biker.” Xisuma teased.

“Gonna be honest X,” Cleo said as she helped Scar pack up his books. “I don’t know what that means.”

Xisuma sniggered. “A tough dude.”

“Awesome.” Scar said.

“We made so much progress, X!” Cleo grinned as she bounced down the hall where the rest were preparing to leave. “Scar is gonna be the best wizard you’ve ever seen! All like, kapow! And FWOOM! And waaaah! He’ll kick those Watchers right in the _face_!”

“I do feel more prepared. I’m glad Ex knocked me down a peg, I really wasn’t as good as I thought. This stuff is so much more advanced.” Scar told X, taking out the mass that was _Void Magic_. “I haven’t even looked at this one yet. And if I’m honest, I’m scared to. I think that if Cleo helps me read this stuff every time we stop, and if I practice whenever we can, that I’ll be okay. We’re gonna be okay, X.”

The Admin smiled at his friends as they equipped their gear. Iskall clapped Scar on the back and Tango ruffled his hair. Doc made a comment about their coats. False talked about getting everyone armour and beamed when Scar showed her his edition of _Moving Enchantments_. They were a happy group who had new hope in their friend. Yet looming in the doorway was Ex. He leveled his glower to Xisuma and nodded at the mortals (and Tango) before gesturing towards the door as if to ask “Are you sure?”

Xisuma nodded and Ex opened the door. The room went quiet as everyone looked out into the void. Ex’s watery form rippled and he swayed before leaning on the wall. When Tango moved to support him, his hand passed right through. Xisuma clutched his ribs with a small grunt and the Hermits backed away from the two Voidkind. No words were exchanged, just worried glances, and X fanned out his wings as he walked towards the door before jumping off the flying bridge into the emptiness.

He trusted his friends to follow.

They did.


	10. Chapter Ten

The party had been flying for a long time.

They had opted for the partners technique again. Ex laughed at them, but even he was unused to travel through the Void. On his wings, he was clumsy. Outside of his home, he was unsure. He tried to stay at the front with Xisuma, leading the group, but he ended up at the back, trailing Scar and Cleo. None of the Hermits laughed at him.

At least Ex took pride in the fact that unlike anyone else in the group (including Xisuma, take _that_ -), his eyes did not get tired when looking into the void. He could keep a level head in the silence as they traveled, unbothered by the blackness, the cold, or the quiet. Unfortunately for the short tempered Voidkind, the Hermits did not have the same affinity’s and did not enjoy the blackness, the cold, or the quiet.

“So, Exy-”

“Don’t call me that.” Grunted the Voidkind.

“Exy, what do you do out here?” Asked Doc.

“Ex and X are literally the same name.” Cleo said. “I like Exy.”

“It’s cute!” False agreed.

“Then call Xisuma Xisuma and I’ll be the only Ex.”

“That’s boring! Have some imagination.” Complained Iskall.

“They don’t stop,” Warned X. “Just agree with them.”

“Fine. Exy it is.”

“What do you do?” Scar said, because Ex never really answered.

“Read. My library isn’t that big for no reason.” A strong flap of his off-balance wings sent him barreling to one side but Ex managed to catch himself with a small growl. “I don’t really leave the castle, because I can’t-”

Xisuma cut him off with a laugh that sounded forced. “I’m starting to think you just want to know everything. But this guy is also an amazing musician.”

“I enjoy art,” Ex said softly. “It’s relaxing.”

“So you just read and make music every day?” Iskall asked.

“Essentially.”

“I know someone _you’d_ like.” Iskall snorted.

“You should meet all the Hermits, Ex! For real this time.” False smiled as she shifted her grip on Tango. “We’re all a big family and we always have more room. It would be fun! You could be closer to your brother, see the Overworld for what it is!”

“I…” Ex snorted and beat his wings hard enough to line up with Cleo and Scar, wobbling back and forth. “Maybe.”

Silence fell over the group again. The void felt almost colder here and False tried to shrink into her armour for more protection. Doc simply adjusted the temperature of his cybernetics to warm himself and Iskall. Scar shivered against Cleo, who was no help since she couldn’t feel hot or cold. Not anymore. Tango’s teeth were beginning to chatter as the void air left large goosebumps on his nether skin.

Soon enough, everyone could hear the rattle of the demon’s fangs. False took over flying so Tango could rest, the poor man’s eyes scrunched shut in pain as he tried to hold it together. For Grian, he thought, you’ve already lost your horns for this keep going for Grian. Xisuma looked over his shoulder and frowned, peering at the small end islands in the distance. “Maybe we should stop for a short moment. Eat something warm, if Scar could summon us a fire.”

Scar looked at the messy scribbles on his arm. _Fireball_ he read. “I could if I have something to aim at.”

“No, no way.” Ex stated from the back of the group. The Voidkind didn’t shrink under the scrutiny of the Hermits or flinch at Tango’s whimper. “Someone needs to shut him up. We’re in Hoifen territory now. If we do anything like start a freaking fire, we’re done for.”

“He’s suffering!” Iskall snapped, looking back to where Ex was. He did a double take before he was able to identify where Ex stopped and the void started.

Tango shook his head, breathing through his teeth as he did his best to smile. The demon had very, pale, human like skin, but it had lost its tint of redness and began turning purple. He could barely open his eyes to look at Iskall. “I-I’m fine, ‘skall. Just a little ch-ch-chilly.”

“Tango, you’re freezing my hands with how cold you are.” False frowned.

“I dun-dun-dunno,” Tango laughed, taking a shuddering breath. “I thought I was pretty attractive.”

“Now is _not_ the time.” Cleo complained. “X, do something!”

“How much harm could it do to set a fire for ten minutes just to warm up?” Asked Scar, and Xisuma dove towards the small islands of endstone underneath the party.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief as they circled over where Xisuma landed until they lost enough momentum to land. Ex flew past them with a sound of distaste, circling higher up as they dusted each other off and False very gently laid Tango down. Doc, warmed by his cybernetics, took off his protective cape and laid it over Tango. Above, Ex let out a groan of annoyance.

The Hermits did not listen. Scar hurriedly unpacked his bag and took out _Beginners Melee Magic_ and turned to the page number written on his arm for _Fireball._ Everyone stood back as Scar held out his hand and read the incantation, flames licking at his fingers before yellow light burned in his palm. Soon, a molten ball of rock filled his hand and Scar threw it onto the endstone. The endstone did not like being burnt, and the dense material creaked under the fire’s heat. Luckily, the magic made sure the fire caught, and soon the small endstone island had a fire. Iskall and Xisuma moved Tango closer to the fire. He couldn’t be burnt, per say, but they also didn’t want to burn all his not-fireproof clothing off.

The colour was returning to the demon rapidly, but still he shivered, so the Hermits began to sit down. Then, and only then, did Ex finally land. He wasted no time when he snarled, “Are you all suicidal!?”

“We’re all friends!” False replied. Doc face palmed at the cheesy line and Tango giggled as Iskall and Cleo snorted. What? They were friends. They could make fun of each other.

“Leave them _alone_ , Ex.” Said Xisuma, sitting next to Tango and helping the demon sit up. “We’ll be gone in ten minutes top and Hoifens won’t even know we’ve been here.”

“I have been of this void far longer than you have, Xisuma!” Ex snapped, wings fanning out behind him. “You left for _seven_ years! And before that, you rarely visited! You know how differently time passes in the Deep End, and how out of _your depth_ you are! You are leading these mortals to their deaths for a single _human_!”

“Ex I said ENOUGH!” Xisuma shouted. Everyone went silent. Xisuma never shouted. He was a happy person with a gentle voice. He was their level-headed Admin who could deal with all their shenanigans and still manage to run a business and keep a thousand bees alive and mine for an hour a day and have a proper sleep schedule unlike the rest of them who most certainly did not shout. It was kind of scary, seeing the Admin snap like that. And for a moment, Cleo felt a little weaker, a little hungrier. Scar could have sworn he saw Xisuma’s fingertips go deep purple much like Iskall’s enhanced eye caught purple filling Xisuma’s irises. Yet, as quick as this happened, it stopped. Xisuma took a deep breath as he stood, leveling his stare at his brother. “You have made it very clear you don’t approve of our ways, of me, and of the Overworld. I know exactly where you stand and by now you should know where I stand. One life lost is one too many.”

Ex only hissed, all big teeth and narrowed star eyes.

“I definitely feel a little warmer now.” Tango squeaked.

“Perhaps, and this is just a thought, we all stop fighting.” Cleo said. “If we stand around complaining about each other we’ll kill each other before we even get near Xeir. Isn’t this how every adventuring party in every story book ever grows closer as a whole? There’s a big fight and they’re mad at each other but have to save each other and then after everyone starts crying and hugs? Let’s skip the fight and hug.”

“I am not hugging.” Doc declared.

Ex nodded firmly. “Me neither.”

Cleo’s green eyes flashed. The zombie narrowed her eyes and opened her arms wide, eyes dark as she opened her rotting mouth, all decaying flesh trying so hard to grow back and strangely sharp yet very human teeth. “We’re hugging.”

“We’re hugging!” Doc declared, picking Cleo up around the waist with one arm and locking Iskall in with his other. He moved onto Scar, hugging him until something popped. He hugged False gingerly, because her armour was pointy, and gave Xisuma a shoulder hug, because the dude was mad and Doc didn’t want to make him any angrier with some unwanted contact. When Doc moved onto Ex, the Voidkind hissed, so Doc hissed back.

Something much bigger and much angrier hissed behind them.

“What did I tell you!” Ex groaned, and with two mighty wing flaps, he was flying into another Voidkind and wrestling them away from the vulnerable mortals.

“Holy crap,” Tango murmured.

“Agreed.” Swallowed Cleo.

“Finally something interesting!” Doc laughed, setting off a rocket and flying after the Voidkind.

“Oh my _word_ Doc you idiot!” Xisuma called, giving a good chase.

Scar, False, Tango, Cleo, and Iskall glanced at each other. They looked back to the four warring creatures and sighed heavily. “You just had to jinx us, huh Cleo?” Iskall sneered, pushing the palm of his right hand into his eye socket.

“Do we all agree to blame it on Ex, not me?” Cleo asked, fishing for her edition of _Statues_. Scar followed in suit, grabbing _Beginners Melee Magic_ and flipping to his recorded pages.

The party members on the island stood in a strange kind of trance for a moment, watching the two Voidkind fight. It was hard to tell where Ex ended and the void behind them started, while Erret was patchy grey and blinding white. Their body morphed and twisted and Cleo felt as if she was being hypnotized. The Voidkind had no weapons, but instead used their strength, which Scar thought was ten times scarier. Erret tried to bite into Ex. Ex drew his claws across their face. It was nasty.

Scar distantly wondered how Voidkind fighting with magic would look.

False pulled her crossbow from her back as Doc threw his trident at the Voidkind. It screeched in pain and adsorbed the trident. Doc very loudly cursed and Xisuma tried to wrestle him to land on an endstone island as Ex tried to pin down the Hoifen. “I am blaming both of you!” The fighter declared, loading her enchanted crossbow with three bolts and taking aim at the Hoifen’s eye.

“Hi Erret!” Ex said nervously. To the party members, it sounded like nonsensical chittering.

“What the Nether are you doing in my territory, Xisuma!?” Snarled the Hoifen named Erret, talking back in Void speak. The larger Voidkind threw Ex into a nearby island so hard the rock cracked. The giant thing loomed over Ex and drew their claws, raising up their hand to slash it down when three bolts landed in their back, _thunk thunk thunk._

Erret absorbed the bolts with an owl-like screech, whiping around. Xisuma face palmed with a loud groan from where he wrestled with Doc as the Hermits standing on the small island looked at each other, then the Voidkind barreling towards them.

“Run?”

“RUN!!”

Smacking into the tiny endstone island, Erret landed with a thud. The island did a 360 spin, which Tango thought was pretty funny, and Erret screamed as they put out the fire with their left hand by standing on it. When Erret’s giant head swiveled around, the closest mortal was Iskall. Their giant hand shot out and grabbed him around the ankle, pulling the man back in. “Why do you have mortals?” Asked the Voidkind.

Ex sat up with a small grunt, hissing. “Let him go.” He warned as Iskall drew his sword and the other Hermits dove towards the Very Dangerous Immortal to save their friend.

“Get out of my territory!” Erret snapped, promptly dropping Iskall with a yelp when the human stabbed them. Cleo kicked Erret in the face and False landed six more bolts into Erret’s blackhole eyes. Scar and Tango whooped as Scar lit his hands and Tango sucked in the energy from the flames, his golden sword sparkling.

“BOSS FIGHT!” Tango screamed, diving into the beast.

“No!! No boss fight!” Cried Xisuma. “It’s run away time!”

“I _tried_ to warn you!” Ex shouted over Erret’s roars of pain, getting to his feet and tackling Erret at top speed. Xisuma hissed and steadied Cleo as the girl was blown into him by the force of the Voidkind’s wings. “Oh shut it!”

Erret threw Ex off of themself, spreading their arms. From the matter that made them, came flying nine crossbow bolts, all embedding themselves into Ex. Unfortunately, this Voidkind didn’t absorb them like the Hoifen. Ex’s much smaller body crumpled and fell off the endstone island as Xisuma shouted in pain, rushing for his brother on weak wings

“New game plan!” False shouted, even her voice stricken with fear. “Distract the damn thing until Scar and Cleo can get close enough! Don’t give it your weapons!”

“It’s go time baby.” Smirked Doc, unsheathing his brand-new diamond sword.

Cleo tried valiantly to use _Statues_ to at least slow the Voidkind down, but Erret’s anger made her magic useless. Every time their arms became trapped in her magic, their fluid body would pulse and they would escape a few precious moments later. Scar was flying in circles, hurriedly flipping through pages as he looked for his best spells. Sweat had smudged the ink on his arm.

“What’s the hold up!?” Shouted Iskall as he aimed to take a chunk out of Erret with his sword only to miss. Tango cried out when he was smacked by a giant wing and sent flying out of the fight. Iskall dove after him to help the flailing demon steady himself.

“You can do this Scar!” Cleo chanted as she went for the knees (if the giant, blob shaped body of Voidkind had their knees just about a quarter of the way to their heads. “Just use fireball!”

“Fireball, fireball,” Scar panted, throwing his rockets into their sling and slowing down to aim. The Hermits quickly retreated to avoid the fire of the unpracticed wizard. None of them intended for all of Erret Hoifen’s rage to be directed at their only true hope. The Voidkind screeched, the sound so loud and ear-splitting the Hermits had to shout too. Scar barely managed to keep his focus, steadily growing a ball of molten rock in his hand as the Voidkind got closer and closer.

As Scar saw the Voidkind open their fang-filled mouth to swallow him, his blood went cold. Not from the fear, but from all of the heat in his body going into his hand and then leaving it in the form of a giant fireball that was three times the size of a watermelon.

And where did this fireball go?

Right down Erret’s throat.

Scar let his elytra close so he could fall the moment the fireball left his palm. He quickly flew to Iskall’s side as the confused Voidkind ran headfirst into an endstone island. With a sickening crack, Erret went limp. Then, they began to glow red. Then, they exploded like a star, all void matter and fire and Doc’s trident flying back into his hand.

The Hermits hollered their victory, but the joy didn’t last long. As they looked down, they saw their Admin on an endstone island just below them, pulling crossbow bolts out of his brother.

They glided down, all stumbling in their landings due to hurry. Scar began shuffling through his books for healing magic, his heart hammering in his chest. Cleo used _Statues_ to make the squirming Ex go still as the Voidkind made high, chittering sounds and his claws gouged holes into the stone beneath them. False began looking for something to staunch the bleeding, if the weird black matter staining Xisuma’s hands was blood. Doc, Tango, and Iskall made themselves useful by standing guard in case any more Hoifen’s wanted to show up and defend their territory.

Xisuma looked deathly pale. He seemed sick as he grunted, eyes scrunched shut as he pressed his hands into his brother’s chest. There was a glow behind his eyelids, but nothing happened. The Admin made a high sound of pain or desperation or something bad and Xisuma tried again, but still, there was nothing. Hot, purple tears streamed down the Admin’s face as the black matter began _crawling up his arms._

“Scar, Scar, Scar!” Xisuma chanted the second he noticed the wizard was with him, putting more pressure on his brother’s chest. The black matter had reached the high points of his wrists now, and even the Admin looked to be in intense pain. Scar gasped as he desperately flicked through his spell books, tears of stress building. None of the books Ex had given him were healing books, just _Reflections,_ which wasn’t meant for healing, but to reflect the spell you would be healing in the first place! Scar dug through his bag and pulled out _The Friendly Brewer_ with a gasp, turning to Cleo.

The zombie, face still and serenely calm, was one step ahead of him. She uncorked the bright red bottle of Joe’s improperly brewed healing potion and poured its contents onto Xisuma’s hands. The Admin snatched them away and Ex screeched as the liquid seared into his wounds. The Voidkind began cursing out the mortals around in, all in Void Speak of course, filling the emptiness with painful high shrieks and whimpers.

The Hermits watching could only stare in horror as the red of the potion mixed with soupy purple matter on Ex’s chest. The two substances seemed to war before Ex’s eyes glowed with a passion and the Voidkind stopped squirming. The wounds began to knit themselves back together, evidence of the bolts completely erased without using even half of the bottle. Ex still whimpered as the Hermits watched him relax, and it was then, and only then, that Scar found five healing spells written in quick succession in the back of _Reflections._

The Voidkind moaned in pain and reached up to feel where his chest had been healed. “I, ugh, I _told_ you so.”

Xisuma’s laughter rang through the empty space as he nodded, covering his face with his hands. His hands, which were now as black as the void and _clawed_. “You told me so Ex, oh wow. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“No more fires.” Tango announced. Iskall clapped him on the shoulder and Doc told him to keep the extra cape.


	11. Chapter Eleven

The tower was big. It had taken a long time to explore each level the way the purposeful architecture deserved, and every level Joe found less and less Hermits at his side. He didn’t mind, no, this was weird, and it had been proven that there were no traps or presents or anything really other than these statutes and the stained-glass stories.

He wondered what Cleo would think of this place. It was truly beautiful and confusing, right up her ally.

It had been a few days since the tower first arrived, maybe two, and Joe was alone within it. He was on the fifth floor, the highest peak and the smallest room. It was one big shrine, candles and strange looking offerings all laid out in a neat circle around an obsidian Nether portal. Around that portal was a strange bedrock insignia. No one had dared go through the portal, not yet, because there was no promise the other side would be 100% safe.

Joe stepped down to the fourth floor and blocked off the highest level with cobblestone to prevent anyone from getting any bright ideas. He left a sign, too, saying “You shall not pass because I said so. Also, please, because it is polite to say please.”

The fourth floor was more stained glass. It was an interesting layout, the tower. The first floor had the statues, which Joe theorized were previous rulers of whatever the tower belonged to. The second floor was more or less a “don’t forget where you came from” room that detailed the history of the empire. The third floor was a giant, empty room with a large platform to one side. Behind that platform was a giant window that would make it appear like whoever sat in the throne (they would have to be super tall, pointed out Bdubs when he saw this floor) had sunshine pouring from their head. The rest of the room was braziers of endrods and more of the strange offerings Joe was scared to touch. Then was the fourth floor, a repeat of the second, and the fifth floor, the portal.

The temporary Admin had been looking at the windows for a very long time.

It was hard to make sense of most of them. The images were easy to guess but Joe supposed whatever thing could move bedrock and build entire towers in mere moments weren’t your regular old surface level people.

This was one of the more confusing windows. The man in the purple sweater, who appeared in many fourth-floor windows like Xisuma, stood in the center. Directed at him were iron swords, raining down across his head and shoulders, but he looked at his feet in fear, where a small white rabbit stood. From the white rabbit, nebulous red glass poured and filled the bottom of the window.

Joe was a poetic guy. But even he couldn’t figure that out.

The windows of Xisuma were easy to guess because they were Xisuma. They were all stories of the Hermits, of Xisuma dragging Doc out of the cursed Jungle to save him, of the Book of Demise, of Xisuma going out to find more people who needed a home and bringing in folks like Grian. It was sweet. There was one that wasn’t a Hermit Tale Joe knew, that was Xisuma wandering into a Hermitcraft world, looking lost, and collapsing into the nearest person. These were all surface and brought Joe peace, which helped him think, so he sat in front of one of the two biggest windows of floor four.

Behind him, was one of the purple-sweatered man being dragged away from something that looked important to him by large, black, grey, and magenta hands as a black crown was placed on his head.

In front of him, was Xisuma being crowned Admin.

Joe closed his eyes and rested his chin on his knee as he tried to think about where Xisuma could be at the moment. Xisuma had never shared a proper plan, like “We go here and do this so we can go there and do that and then go this place and find Grian.” But no one minded because they trusted him. Joe still didn’t mind, but he did worry, because even in the peaceful space the Hermit couldn’t shake off the worry consuming him and meditate properly.

“I wish you were here to tell me to go home, Xisuma.” Snorted the temporary Admin.

No holy light filled the room and revealed a starry vision of Xisuma. No thunder clapped outside to let Joe know some god had heard him. The endrods did not flicker and the air did not get any easier to breath. Joe rubbed his face, because he was tired, and let out a shaky sigh.

It was hard not to let the events of the pass week effect you. Everyone had tried to stay cheery, work as normal, and it was funny to watch shops pop up around the ominous tower, but everything still felt _wrong,_ or at least a little bit off. There was no Grian, no pranking trickster, no Xisuma, no level-headed leader, no Scar, no joy-filled builder, no Iskall, no slime-obsessed inventor, no Doc, no work-craved beast, no False, no happy warrior, no Tango, no bright-eyed demon. No Cleo, no reckless fool that Joe was so, so worried about.

The world felt empty without those eight people and this random tower appearance was so scary and Joe didn’t know where his friends were and he felt like he needed to cry so badly. No one knew what to do or who to turn to or what to hope for because it felt like all their hope had been sucked dry. They didn’t even know what the Deep Void was until Xisuma mentioned it. Why would something from the Deep Void want Grian? Why would whatever built this tower know who Xisuma was? Joe flopped onto his back with a groan that very quickly turned into a yell.

Behind him was a large mass of void, giant eyes of a thousand stars blinking innocently. Joe shuffled along his belt for his sword and held it out shakily, glaring down it’s blade at the strange creature. “Get back!”

“I’m no where near you.” Pouted the creature. It stood over him, at least nine feet tall, maybe three or four feet across. It smiled, but it’s teeth were way too big, and when it leaned down it got way to close.

Joe dropped his sword in change for his communicator, rapidly typing.

_JoeHills: tower tower towe ro tower totwe toewr towet_

_BdoubleO100: what?_

_VintageBeef: He’s typing tower_

_ImpulseSV: I think this means we go to the tower_

“What a lovely little contraption! It amazes me what Admins can come up with.” Said the creature. “Especially little XisumaVoid. I knew he would be something great once he left the void.”

“What _are_ you?” Joe asked.

“Well, my name is Speker.” Said the creature, standing up straight. Long arms with big, clawed hands pulled away from the matter of their body and gestured towards the tower. “But if you wish for my full title, I am a Watcher, Ruler of the Amendments, Protector of Good Speech, Architect of this very Castle.”

“Long title,” Joe said quietly.

The creature drew itself closer to Joe, the human taking in a sharp breath and holding it under the scrutiny of a thousand of stars. Speker smiled at them, teeth maybe as long as Joe’s entire face. “What I want to know, little mortal, is what are _you_?”

“A-a human,” Joe squeaked, fear making him shake, swallowing him whole. “my name is Joe Hills, I’m, I’m the temporary Admin of this world until Xisuma returns.”

“XisumaVoid is gone?”

“We are missing a Hermit,” Joe gasped out. “Xisuma took some others to go find him.”

Speker pulled away, starry eyes going wide enough to produce a small glow. “oh.” They said, taking a deep breath to compose themself before their smile returned. “How lovely.”

“It’s not lovely at all, actually.” Said Joe, getting himself out from between the window and Speker and closer to the stairs in case he needed to run. “One of our own is missing. Has been for almost two weeks. Xisuma going to find him was sort of a last option. And then this tower-”

“My tower.”

“Your tower showed up and I am incredibly confused!”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Speker frowned, reaching out to cup Joe’s face. The Hermit went ridged and gulped, shutting his eyes as he waited for something truly terrible. A long black claw scraped across his cheek and flicked his tears away. “Shhh, don’t cry little human. You are alright. I will see to that.” Whispered the Watcher. When Joe opened his eyes, they smiled. “It is okay to be confused. I am here to help you, I promise.”

Joe nodded shakily, snuffling and wiping his nose on his wrist when the Voidkind pulled away.

There was screaming from the staircase.

“Monster!” Cried Stress, pointing an accusing finger.

“Get away from him!” Yelled Impulse, he and Bdubs running in with weapons drawn.

Speker did not flinch as Joe tried to move to stop them. The Watcher only held up their hand, halting the charging Hermit’s movements. All Hermits present gasped as the two struggled, their feet lifted from the ground for a moment. Then, Speker very gently put them down again. They tilted their head. “No need for that.”

“Guys, it’s okay!” Joe smiled, gesturing towards the mass of void beside him. “They’re friendly. I typed first, asked questions later.”

While Impulse and Bdubs were trying to shake off the feeling of strange magic on their skin, Stress inched forwards with Etho and Ren. Speker stepped back to make more room, then glanced around. “Perhaps we go somewhere more comfortable?” They asked, and suddenly the group stood on the floor below, Speker sitting in the throne.

Etho made a high sound and collapsed into Ren’s arms. “Oh no!” Gasped Stress, fanning him lightly before digging into her pockets for a healing leaf for him to chew on.

“With all do respect, what the heck?” Impulse said, looking around at the group. More Hermits were coming from the stairs, all of them as surprised as the last about the giant Voidkind sitting in a giant throne in this giant tower. It was not a good day.

“I am here to answer your questions!” Speker beamed. “Ask away!”

“How do you know who we are?” Cub immediately asked.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Speker replied. “Your Admins! Lovely boys, those two.”

“We only have one Admin… right?” Asked Crafted.

“No no! GrianAmendment and XisumaVoid are both Admins.” Speker explained. “I have to admit I know Grian better. When he was human, he was an Admin of a small world before coming to this one! My Crown and I were the gods of that world, which is how I met him. Xisuma, though, once lived in the Deep End with us. I only know of him through myth. Perhaps a little bit of observing.”

“I’m sorry,” Mumbo said. “Did you say _when_ Grian was human?”

“Anymore questions?”

“What happened to Grian?” Asked Keralis, hands planted firmly on his hips.

Speker stood from their throne, and every Hermit took a step back. Speker only grinned and advanced towards the stairs, gliding down them. The Hermits shared a glance and ran after the Voidkind, all the way to the second floor, where they took in stained glass windows with a small, fanged smile. “I remember designing each of these windows.” They said absently.

TFC crossed his arms and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “What do they mean?”

“Before there was any world, there was void.” Said Speker. “The void became lonely, and from itself it crafted us, Voidkind. The Voidkind filled the empty space but became bored. So we went to our maker and asked for more. The void had nothing to give but itself, and made empty worlds. It was the first of Voidkind, us Watchers, who gave the worlds life. Who created little mortals like yourself.” They gestured towards the window Stress had first found and then to the one Ren had made fun of. “For a long time, mortals worshipped us like gods.”

Speker smirked at Zedaph. “We are _kind_ deities. We showed the mortals who worshipped us so how to mine. How to create great machines to better their ailing worlds. We even gave some very special ones magic.” They explained, showing off the windows Impulse, Zedaph, and Cub had first found. Speker’s smile fell. “But mortals did not understand balance. They took the beautiful things we had given them and made them ugly. The houses we had shown them how to build became mansions. The earth we gave them because their slave. The machines we showed them how to build began doing all the work for them and they were _lazy_.”

Mumbo shifted on his feet. He wasn’t lazy. Redstone just made the hard stuff less annoying. The Watcher knew they had everyone’s attention at that point and moved towards the large window displaying the mortals at war. “The mortals drifted apart. The began fighting. Then, they began killing each other, all over those silly houses, the diamonds in the earth, and their contraptions. So, The Watchers stepped in again. We destroyed their buildings, broke their machines, and pulled the riches out of the earth. We ended entire _wars_ for the mortals.”

“But there was one who did not care. Who did not listen. Who did not want our help.” Speker folded their arms behind their back and stood before the window depicting the man in the purple sweater. “He was an Admin. He tormented his subjects. He caused fights and brought destruction and refused any help. He took out his hurt from previous worlds on the one he then owned and it was _pitiful._ So, we took him in. To help and to train him. For that he resented us, and the little human ran away to this world. That was Grian. He hated us. But in the recent weeks, we’ve got along again! He has come back to us!”

“What are you talking about dude?” Asked Beef.

“This final window, oh, I just thought you should know who you live with.” Smiled Speker, completely ignoring Beef’s question as they turned to the Hermits. “Lovely little XisumaVoid did not appreciate his home for what it was. He hated what _he_ was. So, he quite literally tore himself in half and ran into the Overworld. He laughs at us for calling ourselves gods… but here he is calling himself an Admin.”

“Where are our friends?” Joe snapped, all fancy words lost from him in that moment.

“I don’t know where Xisuma is. I could look for you. But Grian is just upstairs.”

Just like that, Mumbo was gone, racing up the staircase. He threw himself into the throne room and paused, eyes wide as he saw Grian standing on the obsidian steps with three more of the Voidkind. Grian was certainly taller than he was before, and bulkier, and wore a heavy cape and a thick, black mask. It was Grian alright, Mumbo could tell from the fluffy blonde fringe, but something was most certainly off. Another of the Voidkind had his hand on the back of Grian’s neck, almost holding the man in place.

Grian grinned under the mask, charging forwards nonetheless and enveloping Mumbo in a hug. “Bumbo!” He cried. Mumbo faltered, because Grian was _taller_ than him. The man wrapped Mumbo up with not only his arms, but _wings_ too, which certainly felt weird. Mumbo did his best to hug the feathery configuration of his friend back, because I mean, he was glad Grian was there, but then he saw the Watchers smiling at him over Grian’s shoulder.


	12. Chapter Twelve

After Ex had stopped writhing in pain and Xisuma could stand on his feet without wobbling, Ex had insisted they keep moving. When the Hermits tried to protest, because, bro, you almost just died, Ex just spread his wings and jumped off the end island in the direction of Xeir. It wasn’t as badass as Ex may have been hoping considering he was still getting used to being on his wings again and wavered, but it did send the message he was trying to.

So, they were flying again. Xisuma pushed himself forwards, flying next to Ex at the distance of their wing spans so they weren’t constantly smacking each other. Xisuma glanced over every now and again as the Hermits chatted behind them.

“We just took down a giant monster!”

“That was awesome!”

“Scar that was _so_ badass, you went all like, cachow! And the dude went like FWOOMPH!”

“Your crossbow skills have gotten a lot better, Falsie.”

“I’d say the same about your trident skills-”

Xisuma tried for a laugh as he blocked out his bickering friends and instead flicked Ex’s wing with his own. “Uh. Thank you. For that. Back there. It was really brave of you.”

“Perks of being Voidkind.” Ex said, looking at Xisuma out of the corner of his eye. “Or at least the Void half.”

Something cold filled Xisuma up, it made him uncomfortable and itchy and he didn’t really know what to say it that. His relationship with Ex was so hard to figure out… It was easier to call them brothers, because brothers fight, and brothers aren’t the same person. Or when you’re in a relationship, and you call that person your other half, it’s all just an expression. But you’re _not_ the same person. When someone you’re fighting with is quite literally another part of yourself, what can you do? Or say? Especially when you are the one who tore that person from you and made them their own and they resent you for it?

“Ex, listen…” Xisuma sighed, rubbing at his face. “It was nothing against… I don’t really know how… You know that I still care about you right?”

Ex chittered, the rumble of Void Speak rattling Xisuma’s almost-human bones. “And you show it by sending me a new book every few weeks. And coming for my help after seven years because one of your precious Hermits is missing.” Ex tucked his wings in and fell behind the group again, leaving Xisuma at the front where he belonged. Alone.

The Admin flew silently, a little shocked that Ex would leave him so abashedly when he was trying to reach out. The worst thing is, is that everything Ex was had once been a part of Xisuma. Did Xisuma use to act like that? He looked over his shoulder to find comfort in his friends, but none were looking to him. No, they were looking past him.

“Oh my god please tell me that’s where we’re going.” False said distantly, her eyes big and shining underneath the visor of her helmet.

Xisuma turned away from his reminiscent staring and to the void in front of him, the void that was blocked by the giant end city of Xeir. It was all purpur and endstone towers and pale white lights piercing into the black space around them. The rattle of civilization sang through the emptiness, clatter of industry and the music of chatter and, well, music. It had been so long since Xisuma had seen an end city, decades maybe, and while the crazy things that the Hermits made were beautiful, the simplistic elegance of an end city was unrivaled.

As Xisuma marveled the old memories of visiting these cities daily, a large ship pulled into what must have been a dock. Two giant Voidkind led a what looked suspiciously like a human carrying several large boxes onto shore from the main deck. The adventuring party slowed down as the approached the busy border, drifting towards the city. Air traffic was busy too, since every building leaned into the sky and more ships were trying to dock. Instead of ducking and landing immediately, Xisuma began circling the city, and the Hermits followed in suit.

“This is awesome,” Murmured Tango, squinting at the cobbled endstone streets. “This is like a, a futuristic, Victorian, space-person, _awesome_ city. I thought the Deep End was completely empty.”

“Cities like this are rare,” Explained Ex. “The Deep End is mostly open territory belonging to Voidkind families, but sometimes there are no man lands where… where the dejected build these cities. They’re also good for things like trading resources. Voidkind may be immortal but we still like eating.”

“What are we looking for?” Asked Doc, dodging something that looked a lot like a crane and pushing himself and Tango closer to Xisuma with a few extra rockets. He may be the G.O.A.T of this group but this was territory was too unfamiliar.

“A place that isn’t so busy.” Replied Xisuma.

To Cleo, that seemed virtually impossible. Her vision was mostly upside due the way Iskall was holding her, but even if distorted the streets looked as alive as Tortuga when she left it. Like her, False and Scar were simply in awe. It was gorgeous. The structures stood proud and looked well loved and lived in. It was anything a builder could want. The city was smaller than one would have expected, but the sound and light pouring off of it was deceiving. The Voidkind drifting along the streets and flying to the balconies of higher levels paid them no mind, but the way they moved seemed ingrained in them, a perfect routine they could follow every day.

Xisuma began sailing down around the corner of a thick tower and if the Hermits had been impressed before, they were extra impressed now. A _river_ flowed off the edge of the city. Whatever the liquid was flowed endlessly down, which had to be impossible, but it wasn’t, because it was happening right in front of them. This is where the city seemed to have tapered off, not because the river was undesirable, but because the stone around the waterfall (liquidfall?) had become eroded. Apparently endstone wasn’t good with getting wet.

The Admin landed on the ledge of the endstone island, the dissolving endstone swallowing his shoes and trying to draw him in. He quickly hopped out and the other Hermits followed in suit, landing a bit less gracefully as the fliers had to put down the people they were carrying carefully as not to drop them into the strange terrain. They left deep footsteps, and yellowing stone sticking to their shoes and their pant legs. It tried to swallow them in, but a few well placed bounds got them out of the sticky mess. Ex landed on the Deep End equivalent of quicksand but did not sink an inch. Maybe it was because his weight was dispersed over more than two points, but he was also seven feet tall and two feet wide when he relaxed. He should have been so much heavier, but the Voidkind simply glided over the goop and came to stand with the Hermits.

“This is amazing.” Said Iskall, already hopping down the street.

“Iskall- no-” Ex groaned and hurried after him, and once they were around the corner of the building and truly in the city, Ex knew they were doomed.

Even by Ex’s standards, a giant Voidkind stood before Iskall, looking down at him with giant blackhole eyes. They looked at Ex and raised an eyebrow. “Humans?” They looked unimpressed yet curious, head tilted like they were now evaluating Ex. It was as if to say “Who in their right mind would bring humans into Xeir?”

“What did that thing just say?” Cleo whispered to Scar out of the corner of her mouth.

“Chtk chht chktt chtk.” Replied Scar.

“Helpful.” Snorted Tango.

Ex put his hand on Iskall’s shoulder and dragged the human to his side, smiling sheepishly. “Just for the journey.”

“What is this thing?” Asked the other Voidkind, long clawed finger reaching towards Doc, who, without his cape, was very obviously not of the void. He hissed at the Voidkind, but the creature just tapped their claw on his eyepiece, not at all afraid. “Interesting.”

Wiggling himself between the Voidkind and the Hermits, Ex nodded vigorously. “Incredibly. Which is why we must continue you on. Thank you!” He cheered, quickly diving into a small space between two towers like he _wanted_ to trap them in a dead end. He hoarded the Hermits as if they were sheep, cornering them and scowling at Doc for his thick head.

“Xisuma, please tell me you have a plan.” Ex whined.

“I do, I do, I just was _not_ expecting that. That was creepy.” Xisuma grumbled.

Ex rolled his eyes, because how was Xisuma not expecting the Voidkind to be curious of the random mortals (and Tango, god, Ex couldn’t even fathom why Xisuma would bring a demon), and took the extra cape of off Tango and threw it over Doc. Then, he put Cleo on False’s shoulders. And Iskall on Doc’s. Then Scar on Tango’s. A few adjustments of the capes, and the Hermits at least looked as tall as a Voidkind. All that was left was Xisuma. At least he had the clawed hands now.

“Oh my god this is awesome!” Cleo giggled, gripping False’s helmet as she looked out of the alley way into the emptying street.

“Okay, everyone calm down. I know an old friend who runs a sort of inn for the sea sailors on this side of town.” Xisuma said, digging through his backpack for a very old, very worn mask. Instead of having holes for the eyes, there was red gauze to match Ex’s super nova eyes. The bigger Voidkind shuddered and pretended not to see it. “All we have to do it get there, then we’re home free. We can rest up for the night and continue on to the Amendments’ territory. Then we just get Grian, and come back.”

“That’s sounds way too simple for what it is, X.” Said Doc, his gruff voice muffled by his mask and Iskall’s cape.

“Well, if the Amendments are super-duper territorial, they wouldn’t want to leave their territory, right?” Said Tango. “So, once we got Grian here, it would like home free.”

“It’s janky, but it’s our best hope. Everyone ready to go?” Xisuma asked.

At that, the Hermits went wobbling down the street. Ex was trying not to laugh at how stupid they all looked and held himself taller so no more Voidkind would approach like they did before. He tried to walk behind Xisuma, partially hunched over him so everyone would know Xisuma was under his protection. It was all very ironic.

“Today, I am walking blind.” Tango spoke as if he was reading his biography. “ _Today,_ I must rely on my friend to guide me through enemy warzone.”

Scar pat his head with a little smile. “Onwards, grand steed!” He chuckled.

“If you too don’t stop speaking English every Voidkind in a twenty-foot radius will know that we’re human.” Declared False.

“And if I speak sveedish?” Tango challenged.

“God, please _stop_.”

“Maybe I’ll teach you Void Speak some day.” Smirked Ex, which surprised everyone, because Ex was joking with them? He must be possessed.

At least the Hermits got the message from False’s scolding, because the rest of the surprisingly short walk was silent. Did they get weird looks? Certainly. Did Ex hiss at anyone who tried to get too close? He did. Did they make it to Xisuma’s mysterious inn in one piece? Indeed.

It was very well hidden. Because the ground space of the end island was limited due it being, well, and island, it seemed that the air space was just as precious. The island was weighed down by buildings crammed together, and almost every building reached for the heavens of the heavens. All but this inn. The inn was short and tiny and the buildings next to it took the inn’s lack of expansion as an opportunity, leaning over its air space and trapping it in that tiny cube of space. While the towers all around were made of intricately carved purpur and gorgeous shiny windows, the inn was made of endstone and purpur bricks, in a very plain, old building style that appeared out of place entirely.

Xisuma walked through the door. Ex had to duck, and the Hermits had to untangle themselves before they could get through the door too. It was just a lot of giggling and tripping and Iskall almost unplugging Doc’s cybernetics. Even so, they all stumbled through the door in one piece. Everyone was incredibly surprised to see a _human_ behind the front desk.

The inside looked just as Deep End retro as the outside. The floor was shaggy purple carpet that Doc distantly wondered if it was some type of fur. There was panelling behind the front desk that Scar recognized as shulker shells, which was a very interesting design and could be an awesome type of functional decoration. False ran her fingers along the grooves between the endstone bricks and found that they weren’t bricks at all, but a giant slab of endstone that had been hand carved to look like bricks. The walls had purpur trimming that looked as if it was leaking from the ceiling. Tango was amazed by how cozy the entry hall felt even though it was primarily cold colours and white lighting. Cleo bounced over to the front desk with a big grin, Xisuma trailing behind her as the other Hermits took in the strange architecture. The end stone chandelier twinkled when Ex smacked his head on it.

“Xisuma my old friend!” Cheered the woman. She wore armour… very similar to Xisuma’s, right down to the helmet he no longer wore. She _vaulted_ the desk and ran forwards to embrace Xisuma in a hug, cupping his face. “Look at you! Oh, your hair is so _long_! And your hands! I warned you of this.” She complained, holding the black matter of his hands and running her fingers over the claws.

“I couldn’t exactly not.” Xisuma laughed, nodding over his shoulder. The woman grinned at the Hermits, her eyes widening when she saw Ex.

“Oh, and you must also be Xisuma!” She giggled, bowing for the Voidkind.

“I use Ex.”

“It’s actually Exy, but he’s struggling to accept our nicknames.” Boasted Cleo.

“It’s lovely to meet all of you! I’m guessing you all need a room?” The woman asked as she walked behind her little desk again, leaning on the endstone with a big grin. Her face was mostly obscured by her helmet, but her eyes, big and shining, were visible behind the yellow glass.

“Please.” Iskall said, stretching out his shoulders.

The woman quickly wrote something down and walked down the hall. Xisuma followed, and so did Ex and the Hermits. They walked in silence past a small handful of doors until the woman stomped. Behind her, the nearest eight doors creaked open. Each Hermit (and Ex) took one door, the rooms all small and very much the same.

“Thank you… uh… we never got your name.” False smiled.

“Don’t have one.” Winked the human woman before she smiled at Xisuma and walked down the hall.

Everyone looked to Xisuma for answers. The man just shrugged and walked into his room, shutting the door.

And then, Xisuma collapsed into bed.

He hadn’t slept… in so long… The Admin shoved his face into the horribly silky pillows and sunk into the soft bed. For the first time in… however much time had passed while in the Deep End, Xisuma gave himself the chance to relax.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Iskall laid on the tiny bed spread eagle. He didn’t really fit, but he didn’t care. He was bone tired, and the plain ceiling above him was almost as mesmerizing as the void. Since everyone in the party needed some time to relax and just be by themselves, Iskall had all the time in the world to just think.

Scratch that, Iskall had time to _shower_.

The inventor regrettably pulled himself from the bed and into the even smaller bathroom. In the shattered mirror, Iskall was able to push his hair out of the way and find where his eyepiece plugged into his skull. Iskall very carefully twisted the wire and pulled the contraption away from his face. Once it was safely on a dry part of the sink, Iskall shifted closer to the shower. His poor eye, without the help of the machine, made everything a little bit greyer and blurrier, but Iskall managed to get his hand on the tap and turn it on.

So, the liquid was not water. It was purple and murky (Iskall told himself it was murky because of his poor eyesight, _not_ the liquid quality), but when Iskall stuck his hand under it he was fine, so he was able to finally take a shower.

The warmth on his back felt like heaven after days of travelling and carrying other people along with both their supplies. Iskall stretched out his shoulders and eventually found himself sitting on the floor of the shower, just enjoying the warmth and taking the time to breath. And to think.

All Iskall could think about was his friends. How Mumbo was holding up, if Grian was okay. He was certainly worried about Scar’s mental health with all the stress he was under to learn so many spells. Under the roar of the shower head it was hard for Iskall to concentrate, but the constant loop of _are my friends okay_ was a kind sort of torture.

\----------

She had been a guard in a past life. She had worked endlessly to become so well trained in combat as she was then, and when the Hermits lived in their sixth world, she had stopped practicing so religiously. She focused on her building, her enchanting, her community. Now, when her fighting was truly needed, False felt next to useless.

Her careless fighting had led to Ex being shot by nine of her own bolts because she didn’t realize fast enough that the Hoifen was adsorbing her attacks. Her strength was failing her, leaving a deep ache in her muscles that almost felt like they were in fact falling off. Her armour was unpolished and grinded when she walked, making her slow and uncoordinated. Had she been in this condition in her life before the Hermits, she would most likely have ended up homeless and never met her new family.

False remembered doing drills with Wels once she entered Demise. She recognized she was out of practice and her knightly friend offered his helping hand. They meditated on top of her castle, practiced in Wels’ open fields, and even if she wasn’t at her peak anymore, False felt like she could call herself the Queen of Hearts and Body Parts once more.

Or at least, she could if she didn’t think about how she wasn’t enough to save Wels.

The girl pushed that thought out of her mind. This was the worst part of meditation, she decided, as she sat cross legged on the floor and took deep breaths. Clearing one’s mind of dark thoughts so they could focus on what they truly needed to. So, she moved her thoughts to why she was in the Deep End in the first place. This was redemption. She was going to save Grian from the Amendments and take down their dictatorship. Her sword is what would bring them down, no matter how much Ex told them physical attacks wouldn’t work (he also proved himself wrong by almost dying via crossbow bolts).

False shook her head and took another deep breath before she stood.

For now, she would practice out of armour, but once she felt stronger and had polished away the rust, False would put the diamond gear back on.

The warrior began her drills. Left, right, two right kicks. Left, right, two right kicks. Dodge, slide, right, left. She practiced high jumps and rolls and dodges and the best of her punches and kicks. It was hard to practice without a friend or an enemy actually attacking her, but this would have to do.

She would have to do.

\----------

The creeper let out a pleased hiss as he dropped all of his bags and stretched fully. He pressed a button on his shoulder and stretched out his arms, letting the plates recalibrate. It hurt for a moment, it did every time, but the boneless pleasure that followed was worth it. Doc cracked his back and sat on the bed as he began adjusting his eyepiece and the part of the machinery that was inside his head and chest. It was hard to upkeep such a glorious piece of work, but if it made him the best G.O.A.T in the universe, it was worth it.

Doc rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and curled up in a desolate ball on the bed.

Now, don’t believe that Doc wasn’t super excited to find Grian, save his scrawny hippy butt, and drag him back to Hermitcraft. The creeper was just a little homesick… and he wasn’t scared, no, he was only worried. Especially when his friends were alone back home, trying to start up the whole world with only half of the members.

Do _not_ think that Doc was scared. He wasn’t. He was probably the bravest in the group.

He wasn’t tired, either, the bed was just soft. And it wasn’t that the journey was taking a toll of him. Doc was solid as a rock and he would kill the next Voidkind that crossed his path. He wouldn’t let Xisuma hold him back, he wouldn’t let the creepy things touch him, he would take them down and make the Deep End fear him, Doc the creeper that had an arm that could crush bone and a trident that could impale anything.

The bed was just so soft, you know? It was not that Doc was tired. When he was on adventure, he was the liveliest he ever was. He didn’t get tired on adventures, he just didn’t, so he wasn’t falling asleep on the amazingly soft bed. Once Doc accidentally got himself tangled in the plush covers, and closed his eyes, it totally wasn’t his fault that he fell asleep.

\----------

While the wizard had promised Xisuma he would work on his spell casting whenever they had down time, Scar was struggling to motivate himself. In fact, all he was doing was sitting on the bed and staring at the stack of books before him. It was so _big_. How could Xisuma and Ex expect _him_ of all people to read all of this even with the help of his friends?

“You can do this Scar; you can do this. I believe in you.” The man murmured to himself, pulling _Void Magic_ closer to himself. He thought it would be best to start with the stuff he’d be facing off with in a short while so he knew what to expect. He looked at the page and he felt himself go cross-eyed.

The writing was so _small_. And there was so much of it. In such a painful font.

Scar immediately closed the book and threw it towards the other end of the bed, throwing himself back with a loud groan and covering his face. Well, there goes attempt #3.

He felt so useless. He was meant to be the wizard. The fighter, the healer, the hope of the group. He almost let Ex die because he couldn’t read fast enough and he felt absolutely terrible. When Scar tried to look at the books again his stomach rolled and his head hurt, so he gave up. He would just be the disappointment of the group, and hopefully Xisuma wouldn’t look to him for help anymore. Scar had none of it to give.

There was a knock at the door. Without moving, Scar turned his head to look at the door and grumbled “Come in.” in the most dejected voice he could manage.

Fiery red hair never looked so good as Cleo slid into the room, green eyes big as she grinned. “I totally forgot I promised to help you read. Sorry, Scar, just yenno, I went _whooo_ , and then was like, c’mon Cleoo, you have things to do!”

Scar sat up as the zombie walked over, dumping small crystals in her hand all over the bed. “So I was walking here, cause I felt bad for forgetting, but our mysterious little inn keeper lady caught me! She handed me these things, and said you’d need them, which was crazy, but I mean why would she want to harm us? She said they were magic so I’m guessing they’re gonna do _something_ to help you.”

“Cleo you are my savior.” Scar grinned, standing up on his knees to look at the tiny crystals. They shimmering in his hands, and if the wizard strained, he swore he could hear whispers like that of the Vex. “Oh wow, these are so cool. What did she say they were? Just… magic?”

“Green is luck! Like my eyes, of course.” Cleo smirked, picking up the green crystals delicately and placing them in Scar’s palm. “Red I think is healing, which would have been helpful earlier! I’m not one hundred percent sure what the other ones do, because she stopped explaining when she noticed she had another customer. So I don’t know how to use them either, but oh well.”

“No, it’s fine.” Said Scar. “I can hear them. They’re telling me things.”

“I’m gonna admit to you mate I think that’s more concerning than anything.”

“No, look.” Scar said, holding the biggest of the red crystals to Cleo’s hand. Scar hummed softly, a sweet tune that his head lolled to, that the crystal was humming back to him. Cleo watched with big eyes like Scar was in a trance and the mysterious little crystals were telling him to kill her. Yet, when Scar passed the crystal over Cleo’s hand, she watched the grey skin turn pink, stitching itself back together. The wrinkles flattened out into tight, youthful skin, and the endless maps of bruises and cracks that covered her faded away into the alive flesh.

Cleo snapped her hand away and held it to her chest. “What was that. Scar. What was that.”

“I don’t know!” Scar gulped, clutching the crystal to his chest to. “I- it told me it could help you so I, I don’t know! I wanted to help.”

“Keep that away from me.” Cleo said quietly, looking at the back of her hand where the skin had healed. The zombified skin of the rest of her hand quickly infested the healed skin until it looked the same as the rest of her. But for that short moment, her hand had been healed. She had been cured.

\----------

Like he knew they would, Tango’s horns were already growing back. It wasn’t the worst thing, but Tango had quickly realized that Ex was right when he said Tango’s horns would put them all in danger. If the Hermits in full black capes and heavy masks could be caught out, Tango in a full black cape and a heavy mask and two-foot horns would certainly be caught.

In fact, at that point of their journey, Tango felt kind of terrible. It had been his lack of preparedness that had almost gotten everyone killed. It had been his biology that had betrayed them and his inability to persevere through the pain.

Even now, when they were inside, Tango wore the heavy cape over his clothes. He had even changed so he could wear more layers of clothing. He would never admit to it, but he also wore the bed’s blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he looked in the bathroom mirror and rubbed the sharpening nubs protruding from his forehead.

Tango rubbed at the bags under his eyes and wondered if Impulse and Zed were missing just as much sleep as he was. He was so excited to see them after dealing with his family in the Nether all those months ago. Seeing Impulse on that Nether Bridge, there to drag his butt home after being gone for so long, was probably the bestest moment in all of Tango’s life. He really wished Impulse would stand in his doorway and drag his butt home right now.

It was a strange feeling when Tango thought of what home was. The surface thought was, of course, Hermitcraft. Xisuma worked so hard to make sure every world worked for everyone and made them happy. His friends in Hermitcraft were probably the best he ever had. But instinctually, Tango knew if someone somehow turned him feral and told him to go home, no one would be able to stop him from finding the nearest Nether portal and diving into the deepest pits. Then again, if Tango had to pick between the harsh life of being a demon, even one with a pretty awesomely giant title, and the life of a Team ZIT member with a fully conscious mind? Tango would choose Impulse and Zed every time.

So Tango held his sword to his horns and began cutting through them. He would never go to the Nether again if it meant he could save Grian, all of Hermitcraft, and see his friends once more.

\----------

The Admin never did get much sleep.

Xisuma was awoken by a knock at his door. He sighed and rolled himself out of the traitorous bed and walked to the door, opening it to reveal not a Hermit, but Ex.

The Void half of the Voidkind had shrunk into himself, compacting down into a six-foot-tall blob of space and endless blackness. Xisuma knew it was because these ceilings were too short for the average Voidkind body, but it made him frown to see Ex purposefully making himself so small. “Ex? What can I do for you?”

“Just quiet in my room. You mortals are all so loud and I-” Ex tried to give Xisuma a bashful smile that just appeared to be him baring his teeth. “I don’t like the quiet.”

The not-really mortal stepped aside without saying anything, letting Ex into the room. His other half slipped in silently too, looking around the inn room identical to his like it was new and wonderful instead of a run-down inn that was probably breaking several Xeir laws. Xisuma shut the door and locked it, moving back to his bed and sitting down, because he wasn’t ready to be awake again.

The two stayed in silence. Ex sat on the other side of the bed and the incredibly soft mattress didn’t even dip.

The Admin was searching for something to say when Ex did it for him. “I hated you for a really long time.”

“Pardon me?” Was Xisuma’s intelligent reply.

“I hated you.” Ex shrugged. “That’s why I kept finding your Hermitcraft worlds and tried to destroy them. I wanted you to feel lonely like I do.”

“Ex-”

“Don’t ‘Ex’ me, Xisuma. Your name belongs to me as much as it belongs to you.”

“Xisuma,” Said the Admin. It felt weird to say his own name referring to someone else. Well. If Ex counted as someone else in this conversation. “When I left the Void, I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to leave _you_.”

“Well that’s exactly what you did, isn’t it?” Ex asked, standing up from the bed and walking towards the small door of the bathroom. Xisuma could see the other half of him shake with the struggle of containing his mass in such a relatively small space in such a long time. “Whether you wanted to or not. You left me.”

“No, I’m serious, I couldn’t stand the Void anymore and I just knew that I was holding myself back.” Xisuma tried to make their situation sound light. “and I knew if I could get rid of that part of me things would be better…”

He began to trail off as he realized what he was saying. “Oh goodness…”

“Exactly.” Laughed Ex humourlessly as the Voidkind peered at himself in the tiny bathroom mirror. “If you could get rid of everything I am, _you_ would be so much better.”

They settled into their silence again. Ex moved away from the mirror and let himself leak out, stretching his body sideways so his head wasn’t pressed against the roof. Xisuma watched him move and remembered moving that way. How it felt. How it felt to have legs for the first time, too. The Admin was certainly walking a fine line and he didn’t know which way to lean. If anything, Xisuma didn’t know if there was a way to lean, only a way to fall.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Xisuma.” He said.

“I don’t know either.” Complained the shadow before him.

The Hermit opened his mouth to make some pitiful excuse or an empty promise but the Voidkind beat him to it. “I have all of your childhood memories. Of _our_ childhood memories. Growing up, exploring, getting into scraps, discovering creation. And I have some of your memories from when you first pulled me out of you. Then it just… stops. You stopped coming home. You stopped visiting. And all my memories after that are just my bookshelves getting bigger and more instruments showing up in my playing room and I mean I know so much from all that stupid reading but you still don’t _trust_ me.”

A giant clawed hand rubbed at the endless face of Ex. “I don’t trust me. I can’t tell where I end and you begin. I don’t know who or what I am because I know that I’m you but _you’re_ you and you put me in this awful situation. I feel so _weak_ around you but you make me so _happy_ and I don’t know how to feel about you finally coming home because all you wanted was my brain. Not me.”

The man on the bed shifted under the scrutiny of himself. His old red eyes bore into him and demanded answers. Xisuma’s green eyes had nothing to give him but regret and despair.

“I… I can’t undo what I did.” Xisuma said softly. “But you have to believe me Xisuma if I could, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

Ex sniffled. Xisuma didn’t know that Voidkind could sniffle, and he used to be a full one. “I don’t have a heartbeat.” Said the mass of space before Xisuma. The tears from before were back, tinted pink from the glow of Ex’s fiery eyes.

“The speed of light, then.” Xisuma smiled. Ex snorted and sat on the bed next to Xisuma.

Both of the men on that bed stiffened at the closeness they felt. Ex gravitated to Xisuma like an insignificant planet around a star and he hated it. Ex leaned in, feeling tired, and then more tired, and his eyes seemed to drift close while only getting wider. Ex could go to sleep forever, right there, and never wake up, and he would be fine on Xisuma’s shoulder, and then Xisuma was leaping off of the bed.

Xisuma was panting. Now that Ex thought about it, he was too. The black matter that had at first only stained up to Xisuma’s elbows had crawled up to his neck on the side Ex was leaning on. Some had even traveled to Xisuma’s jaw. The endless black was so dark that Ex wondered if Xisuma was even deeper void than he was, which was technically impossible, but leave it to Xisuma to be better than Ex in every way. That’s when Ex realized that matter must have come from him, and he looked to his side, where he saw the star fire inside of him licking at wounds that weren’t there before.

Of course merely sitting close to Xisuma would tear him apart.

Ex collapsed into the bed and went to sleep.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Bdubs sat on the bed Tango built him and scowled. It was cozy and pretty and Bdubs wanted to disappear into the sheets for ever. He would never admit it to the creeper’s face, but he enjoyed their little rivalry. After getting stuck in that damn jungle for so long, Bdubs was the happiest man alive to rejoin the world of the living in the last word. Demise shmise, this next world was even better.

The house thing was funny. Then came the wall, and the bee, oh god, the bee. And the stupid bedroom! Doc didn’t even get to see it before he left. The big space was so empty with out the stupid dummy and Bdubs felt like he didn’t have anything to do without his best friend slash rival. He did everything to be better than Doc, but everything was better than Doc if Doc wasn’t there to do anything. And where was he? Was he okay? Or Safe?

Hurt?

The builder tucked his knees to his chest and held in tears as he shook. It was worse that Tango built this bed, because _he_ was missing too! Bdubs should have gone. He should have gone with the rest of the group to make sure that his friends were safe. Doc was his best friend and his neighbor! Tango made him this lovely gift for no reason other than to be kind! Xisuma is his Admin and his friend and his business partner! And Bdubs left them go into the Deep End without him!

The tears began to escape and Bdubs shoved his face into the lovely silk pillows.

Three of his closest friends were lost in the void and Bdubs didn’t know when or if they would be back. He felt sick, and scared, and alone, wracked with silent sobs as he tried to hold it together in the small room.

“Bubbles?” Called Keralis from the top of the stairs. Bdubs gasped and shot up, rubbing his face and trying to rid himself of the red puffy eyes. That sent him into a bought of coughing filled with sobs, so he collapsed back into the bed and just let himself whimper and cry as Keralis ran down the steps. “Oh, Bubbles!”

Keralis sat on the bed and Bdubs leaned over to cry into the other man’s shoulder. Keralis reached over and rubbed Bdub’s back, sighing softly. “What’s going on, Bubbles?”

“I miss them, I miss them so much, and I’m such a _dummy_ for not going, I could be helping them get back home, I’m so scared that my friends are _hurt_.” Bdubs cried, pushing his fists into his eyes. He sunk further into Keralis, choking on his tears. Keralis curled both his arms around Bdubs and squeezed him, resting his head on his friend’s. “Grian is home now, so what are they doing? Are they going to fly in circles _forever_ and never come home? I’m so scared Keralis, I’m so scared!”

“Shh, shhh, it’s okay Bubbles, you’re okay. No one is upset with you…” Keralis murmured, letting go of Bdubs and watching the other man shrink into himself. “And you know, I’m really scared too.”

“You are?” Bdubs asked. God, he looked like he was five.

“Super scared!” Keralis nodded vigorously, glad to change the subject from something he didn’t know. “Like who are these Watcher guys? Walking around like they own the place?”

“Right! Stupids!” Bdubs cried.

“I don’t trust them.” Keralis added. “I mean, look at what they did to Grian! He doesn’t even look like Grian.”

“He’s a _cultist_!”

“Right! Well, no, not really. But why did the big one talk about destroying civilizations so happily?” Keralis got up and started pacing. Bdubs followed his lead and also stood and started pacing. The two IDEA members paced in the small around in front of the bed, mulling over the Watchers. I mean, what were they? Who were they? What had they done to Grian? The big one said they would look for Xisuma and the rest of the party, but it had been like two or three days! There was no word of where they were. The two men collided and fell back, both clutching their foreheads.

The men looked at each other with big eyes before bursting out laughing, rolling around on the floor. As Bdubs sprawled out, happy tears in his eyes, he sighed a little. It was gonna be okay. It was gonna be okay.

\----------

The communicator in his hand was empty and Cub didn’t know how to feel.

When he first set about trying to help Scar, he had tried to make a redstone machine that could take a beating. He filled it with fire charges and splash potions and hid it behind Scar’s base so if the magician wanted to practice, he had the place to do it. One could change how fast the machine fired projectiles and what kind of blocks defended the mechanism so it would be easier or harder to beat.

It was a good design, Cub was proud of it, but now he sat in front of the machine unable to use it, cradling his communicator. All he could do was look at the dispenser and wait for the communicator to buzz. It didn’t.

Cub opened a private thread with Scar.

_Cubfan135: Hey dude. It’s kinda crazy over here. I hope you’re on your way home because wherever you’re heading is empty. And I miss you. I miss ConCorp and the ConVex and I just wanna go back to fooling around and causing trouble. Get back soon and safe, you hear me?_

Cub laid down on the stone floor and stared into the sky. The sun beat down on him and the trees leaned in to keep him safe. Then, it was black, a Watcher leaning over Cub with a big smile.

Startled, Cub rolled away and onto his feet, facing the Watcher like he was ready to fight. They put up their hands and tilted their head with a pout. “Calm down. I gain nothing from hurting you.”

“What are you talking about?” Cub sneered, tucking his communicator away safely and crossing his arms. Of the four Watchers, Cub didn’t like this one the most. They were the smallest, but Grian seemed uncomfortable around them, they made a point of often sharpening their claws on obsidian, and Cub was almost positive their glare could kill a man.

“Speker wants you ‘Hermits’ alive. So I do too.” Smiled Taer, looking around. “But as I was flying over, I saw your little clearing here. I just wanted to know what this lovely little set up was.”

“It’s none of your business, that’s what it is.” Cub snapped, getting between Taer and the mechanism. “This is my build made for Scar, not for you, so get out of here. This is his base and his territory and _I_ am very protective of my builds.”

“Scar is one of the missing ones, no?”

“Missing?” Cub asked, going quiet as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. “Who said anything about missing?”

“I did.” Taer said, tilting their head. “Did you not hear from Speker? Oh, they looked. They looked all around the Deep End for your little party of adventurers. They didn’t find them. Not one. Not even a trace. Sad thing is, Speker risked their life going to the Void castle and poor Xisuma’s worst half wasn’t even there. They probably got lost in the void after Xisuma spent so long in the Overworld.”

\----------

Impulse laughed under his breath as he walked into Tango’s house and found Zed sitting on the floor with his dog. “You beat me.”

Zed’s head shot up and he offered a small smile, hugging the young dog into his lap with a nod. “I’ve always been faster you know.”

The armoured man collapsed heavily next to his friend and ruffled the dog’s fur between his ears with a content sigh. No more was exchanged as they looked through the window over the ocean. The beginnings of Impulse’s base would soon cover the view, but for now the two friends enjoyed it in silence.

Perhaps the crazier of the two Hermits couldn’t stand it. “That’s a whole lot of armour for visiting a missing friend’s house. Did ya think he was in a closet waiting for someone to come so he could ambush them?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Impulse grinned. It quickly fell and he looked over tired under the shadow of his helmet. “But no. I just… don’t feel safe. The world feels… wrong, with those Watcher things here. I’ve taken to wearing the armour everywhere in case something goes wrong so I can be ready. Its been a weird few days… especially with Tango gone… and Grian so different… everything feels so much quieter. Like everything is on pause? I can’t stand it.”

“No. You’re right.” Zed nodded. “I can’t stand the quiet. I miss our demon dummy.”

Impulse leaned his head on Zed’s shoulder after finally pulling off his helmet and throwing it aside. The quiet came back, which made them both laugh a little, because they both hated it so much, but it was so hard to fill the void Tango left. Zed’s voice broke a little when he tried to laugh again. “Team ZI.”

“Oh shut up.” Impulse laughed, wrapping his arm around Zed’s shoulder. The dog in his lap whimpered and licked his owner’s cheek. “Tango will be okay. He has to be okay. He’s Tango. Would you be surprised if he brought a bucket of happy fun sauce to the freaking Deep Void?”

Zed erupted into laughter, flopping back. His dog whined loudly and stood on his chest, licking his face as Impulse giggled.

“Nooo!” Cried Zed.

“Get ‘em, go pupper!” Laughed Impulse.

They giggled on the floor of Tango’s house for awhile, looking up at the ceiling like it could solve their problems. Zed pouted and looked over after a long while. “I know I haven’t had the most productive starts in this world, but we can’t lay here and pity ourselves all day. I have a plan. A great plan.”

\----------

In the hobbit hole within his hobbit hole, Mumbo sat facing the tunnel Grian had built. He had a small piece of paper clutched in his hands. He wanted to talk to Grian, he really did, but whenever he tried the guy seemed so… off.

So the redstoner was hiding in his base, wondering how this had become his life. He never expected that he would meet Grian, end up convincing Xisuma to make him a Hermit, and then meet the first beings of the entire universe because of the talented gremlin man. He didn’t see Sahara coming, or the Build-Off, or Demine. Mumbo would have lived happily alone with his redstone. _He_ used to be the one who broke the world with crazy ideas taking up Xisuma’s energy. Mumbo did not expect he would become so close with Iskall and that Grian would be the one who made the acquaintances that had known each other for years finally become best friends.

The still air outside was such an old memory. The quiet felt off. The man didn’t know how to feel about his two friends being missing. Well, Grian wasn’t missing anymore, but he did feel like he wasn’t Grian. Mumbo’s fun idea for Hermit Challenges had been lost by Iskall’s absence. Which is why the redstoner was sitting in front of his and Grian’s tunnel with a piece of paper. He had crudely drawn a tree and jot down the coordinates to his and Iskall’s spot. Maybe he was searching for normality while the Hermits waited for the adventuring party to come home.

Mumbo laid the piece of paper into the chest and kicked the minecart hard after slamming down the lid with a groan. He flopped onto his back with a sigh to wallow in self-pity and indecisiveness, and then heard the horrible sound of minecart wheels sliding along the tracks. The redstoner jumped to his feet and saw the minecart tilting, tilting, tilting over the edge, before it fell.

The minecart slid down the track and zoomed away, resulting in Mumbo slamming his head into the wall. “I’m such a spoon.” He whined, looking at the now empty tracks uselessly. Well now the redstoner would have to _meet_ up with his friend who had been acting crazy in the middle of the jungle all alone. And the sun was setting! Of course the sun was setting! Mumbo was going to die.

Just so he wouldn’t die, Mumbo put on a full set of (poorly) enchanted gear before sharpening his sword and disappearing into the depths of the jungle where he had built his strange Hermit Challenges initiation platform. Wrestling through the vines, thick grass, swampy moss, and interlocking trees interrupted by thick rods of bamboo was not fun, but Mumbo didn’t want to give up and get in trouble with the strange new Grian. When Mumbo arrived at the platform, even though he _knew_ where the platform was and Grian didn’t, Grian had beaten him.

“Mumbo! What is this?” Grian laughed, spreading his wings to gesture to the platform.

“Initiation!” Mumbo declared, doing his best to smile as he walked towards the chest. “Oh, you already ate the cookies.”

Grian’s eyes flashed under his mask, and while Mumbo couldn’t see much else of the man’s face, his shuffling feet was obviously a sign that he _had_ to be blushing too. That made Mumbo feel somewhat better, so he kept going with the process.

“You’re double initiated! Congratulations!”

“Yeah?” Grian asked, quirking an eyebrow and crossing his arms under his chest underneath his cloak. Mumbo missed his red sweater.

“Yeah! So now what you do, is you gotta write down a bunch of challenges for me. It’s Hermit Challenges! Yay! Hermit Challenges Initiation!” Mumbo clapped and began pulling pieces of paper that had been tacked to the wall down. He heard a zombie groan in the darkness and huffed for being interrupted, grabbing his sword. By the time he turned around to even face the zombie, it was gone. In it’s stead, was a crater in the ground sparkling with purple fire.

The redstoner turned to his friend with giant eyes, taking a small step back as he absently laid the pieces of paper onto the anvil. Grian turned to Mumbo and smiled, or at least Mumbo was hoping it was a smile, before Grian’s hands disappeared underneath his cloak again. “Go on, Mumby.”

“I- uh, you just, you know, write down a challenge on this paper. And you need, like, three of them.” Mumbo held up his, already written, and smiled nervously. “See? Hermit Challangeesss…”

Grian silently walked up to the flaming podiums and began writing on the papers. Mumbo put his challenges into Grian’s dispenser and Grian put his into Mumbo’s. On the count of three, the two hit their buttons and received the fated papers. Grian looked down at his and snorted, shaking his head at Mumbo’s foolish dare. Mumbo looked at his paper and his face screwed up, a frown taking over his appearance. “ _Get good lol_ ” was written in handwriting that was _not_ Grian’s.

\----------

Joe was collecting his sales from the shopping district and had to keep looking over his shoulder at the tower, because it was scary, and with it looming over him, he felt scared. The poet didn’t know what to do about the strange Watchers. He had tried to enter the temple to do sketches of the windows a few days ago and the quiet one wouldn’t let him past unless Joe _bowed_. It was kind of a mess.

No one on the server was excited to see the new ‘gods’. They were scary and unhelpful and Joe had already seen the world around them begin to change. Not to mention the fact that the adventuring party wasn’t back yet and Grian was acting weird and Joe hadn’t seen the man without that creepy mask. Joe stashed his diamonds and ran for his boat. He didn’t want to be near that tower anymore unless he absolutely had too.

As Joe sailed through the ocean, he took the moment to enjoy the sun. That is, at least, until the sun was blocked out by nothing but pure darkness. Joe looked up to see a Watcher soaring over him on their strange grey wings. Joe shrunk into his boat and stopped rowing so quickly, letting the Watcher fly away and disappear into the mountains nearby.

What would Xisuma do? Joe asked himself. If Xisuma was here, what we he do? Use awesome Admin magic to ban the Watchers, obviously. But because Joe was temporary Admin, he didn’t have temporary Admin powers.

Then it hit him. The communicators. Xisuma had spent hours to make the communicators out of redstone and pure Admin magic. The Watchers could see everything the Hermits were doing, could follow them, could find their builds, could (probably) track their code if they were as godly as they said.

But if the Watchers didn’t know what a communicator was, how could they look for one?

_JoeHills: Howdy y’all. I think it’s best if we all meet up and discuss our options._


	15. Chapter Fifteen

They met in Iskall’s underground base. No one had been there since he left other than Mumbo to steal slime, so the chance of the Watchers knowing about the coordinates was low. It was also hidden, though Iskall’s weird vertical hobbit holes stuck out of the desert like a sore thumb everyone agreed there was no way a Watcher could fit into the entrance of the mines. They met at midnight, because while none of them knew if Watchers slept, they sure did know that Watchers knew that they slept.

The room was filled with whispers. People stood in pockets in the crowded room, discussing strange meetings they had with Watchers in the previous days or weird gifts and messages they found around their bases. Most talked about how strange Grian was, all dressed up to look like a Watcher and certainly not behaving like himself.

Joe climbed on top of the pile of diamond ore Iskall had strewn about in the middle of his base, the show off, and raised his arms. “Howdy everyone! Glad to see everyone in good health… anyone know where Mumbo is?”

\----------

“Ahahah! The miracle of life!” Grian cheered, pressing his face to the glass of his villager container. He looked through the ceiling to the villagers as an adult he had captured held a little child. It was astonishing, it really was, to see the gift of mortal life happening right underneath his hands. The Amendment jumped down from the container, softening his landing with a strong beat of his wings.

From the wings, wind blew back the human standing on his path. It was the human Mumbo!

“Grian, uh, mate, I was just coming to walk with you to the meeting!” Mumbo smiled, scratching the back of his neck. The human was always nervous, Grian knew this, so he bounded forwards to clap Mumbo hard on the back. The man stumbled a little and squeaked. “So uh, are you coming?”

“What meeting are you talking about?” Grian asked, walking back towards his container. He chipped at the cobblestone blocking the villagers he was trying to work with. They were strange creatures, but Grian thought they were so interesting. With their strange language, and their funny clothes, he started giggling as the one he wanted to trade with backed away for no apparent reason but was trapped by the simplest redstone mechanism ever.

“The…” Mumbo snorted a little and shook his head. “The meeting Joe requested? At Iskall’s base?”

“Joe! The temporary Admin!” Laughed Grian, clapping as he turned around. “He’s weird but I think he’s pretty funny. Why would we be meeting at Iskall’s base if he’s missing? Are we stealing?”

“What, mate, Iskall isn’t _missing_ he’s just travelling, I-” Mumbo rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath. “This isn’t what I came here to talk about. Look, are you coming or not?”

“I mean, I’ll come, but I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” Grian said, reaching down to light the torches scattered about. Fire erupted at his fingertips and the torches, _all_ the torches, began glowing purple around them. Grian stepped up to Mumbo and Mumbo took a step back. “Mumby, you’re acting weird.”

“No Grian, you’re acting weird.” Said Mumbo. “Where’s your communicator?”

“My what?”

Mumbo marched into Grian’s hobbit hole, throwing the doors open and beginning to dig through Grian’s unfinished base. The redstoner tore through Grian’s chests, searching desperately for the contraption in question. When it wasn’t in Grian’s surprisingly organized chests, Mumbo tore through Grian’s bed. The communicator also wasn’t there, so Mumbo searched through the man’s very good redstone contraptions. At this point, Grian was trailing him silently. There was no sign of the precious machine, so Mumbo went back to Grian’s bedroom and tore it to shreds.

Inside Scar’s clock, as if the broken thing had been repurposed, was Grian’s jeans and his red sweater, both delicately folded and placed on in the bottom. Mumbo dug into the pockets of Grian’s jeans and held the small box reverently.

“This, Grian. This is your communicator.” Mumbo explains, placing it into Grian’s outstretched hand. “This keeps you connected to the Hermits. Because you are a _Hermit_ , remember? Not an Amendment. You are a Hermit, Grian.”

Grian snorted and found the button to turn on the communicator, watching the small screen light up. “I’m a lot of things, Mumby. I was a student for a while. And then an Evolutionist. And a fool. I was just a solo builder for a long time and when I met you… then, _then_ I was a Hermit. But now? After a year of recking more havoc, trying to fix my past mistakes, only to end right back up where I started… I knew I had to change. The only way I could do that was with the help of the Watchers and they were so kind to take me in after I refused them so long ago. It was the responsible thing to do to show my gratitude by joining them.”

“But Grian you are a _human_! They are immortal Voidkind!” Mumbo frowned, stepping closer to his despondent friend. “And you’re my friend! You’re every Hermit’s friend! Everyone loves you! You didn’t reck havoc- you made the server feel so much more alive! We want you here, as Grian, just Grian! We don’t want you to change like the Watchers do!”

The builder’s eyes were wide behind the mask, but that was the only part of the man’s expression Mumbo could see.

“And that stupid _meeting_ you’re asking about, gods, Grian, it’s about them! What they’ve done to you!” Mumbo looked up at his friend, grabbing Grian’s arms and scowling. “You haven’t been yourself since you came back. And, and I _miss_ you Grian, the real Grian! The rest of the Hermits are waiting for us in Iskall’s base because we need to talk about what these Watchers are doing to our world. We saw the windows; we know what they’re capable of. Do you really want to let them change your home? To change your friends like they changed you?”

“They’re just trying to help-” Grian choked out, but Mumbo interrupted him.

“You’ve told me about Evo.” Mumbo said softly. Grian stiffened. “About Taurtis, and all of your friends. And you know that they would still be here if it wasn’t for the Watchers. What if they do it to us?”

“Shut up.” Grian said softly. Mumbo took a step back and a low, chittering echo that did not sound human came from Grian. The golden wings at his back began to unfurl, making him look even bigger than his recent transformation. “ _Shut up_.”

“Grian, I’m, I’m sorry but you need to hear it we’re all so scared and I feel like I don’t even know you anymore these creatures are doing nothing good for us and you…” Mumbo trailed off.

Why did Mumbo trail off? Why, because, Grian’s eyes were glowing purple. The man was panting, but he hadn’t moved an inch. Grian reached up to pull at his hair and his breathing became more erratic. “You, you don’t _understand._ ” Snarled the Watcher as light built on his fingertips. Mumbo gulped and began backing away as the light sparked, bursts of lightning spreading from Grian and making contact with the ground, scorching the wooden floors. Grian’s feet began leaving the floor as wind magic whipped around them and his wings beat, pushing him towards the rather short ceiling, even in the small room. Scar’s clock fell over. The sheets flew off the bed. Mumbo could barely keep his eyes open.

The wind yanked on his and Grian’s clothes, throwing the Watcher’s cloak about and revealing the plain black shorts and shirt underneath. Grian’s feet, almost up to his knees, were stained black. Mumbo didn’t know what to do as purple fire began licking at the floor, so he ran.

For any who may know Mumbo, they know he does not run. He can jog, and will often start his day with a long-distance jog to get his blood pumping. He knows how to use elytra, and while there are moments he loses his balance, he certainly isn’t as bad as Scar. Using rails Mumbo can have his fun with redstone, transport villagers, and see some interesting scenery while making precarious bridges. But Mumbo does not run. He does not push himself to go as fast as his body will allow him, because it hurts after. He does not run in his stupid suit because he doesn’t want to tear the seams or wrinkle the pressed shirt. Mumbo just doesn’t run, as simple as that. He takes no pleasure from it.

But in the short distance (plagued by jungle fauna as it may have been) between Grian and Iskall’s bases, Mumbo _sprinted_. For the first while, he heard fire crackling and wood snapping in two. A short distance after, he heard the wind roaring around him and whipping through the jungle branches. Luckily, Mumbo’s long legs did him well, and he made it all the way to the desert in record time.

The night was still and eerie quiet in the desert, but Mumbo threw himself through Iskall’s doorway and slammed the door shut. Then, Mumbo blocked it with spare building materials in the bag tossed over his shoulder. He jumped into Iskall’s mineshaft and landed with a loud splash.

The Hermits went silent in the mineshaft, turning to look at the redstoner as he pulled himself up with a gasp. “We, we should change the location of the meeting.” He said quickly, eyes big and wild.

Cub and Joe ran forwards, helping Mumbo get up and catch his breath. Stress gave him a small leaf and pointed towards her mouth with a wink when Joe finished his explanation of what Mumbo had missed in the meeting. “We’ve all agreed the Watchers have to go, Sir Mumbo.” Mumbo nodded along, because of course he agreed, and he swallowed the bitter leaf with a grimace.

His heart beat slowed, and Mumbo rubbed his forehead. “Grian. It’s Grian. He’s not, well, he isn’t Grian.”

“What are you talking about?” Asked Etho.

“Grian- he, I don’t know! He said he wasn’t a _Hermit_ anymore and he, he transformed!” Mumbo cried, grabbing at his hair as he fully realized what had transpired in the last few minutes. “I mentioned his old world and he started _crying_ I think and then his eyes went purple and goodness me his skin was turning black and I don’t know what’s happening!”

The redstoner shook his head and covered his face, letting out a heaving breath. Stress enveloped him in a hug, followed by Keralis, then Bdubs, and soon enough Mumbo was lost in a sea of hugs. It was quiet in the mines oppose from a few soft beeps from their communicators. Mumbo sat down on the diamond pile with Joe as the other Hermits fished out the offending machines with a scowl.

_Grian: tksnt_

_Grian: 12345678_

_Grian: &(@^”?_

_Grian: Strange_

“I don’t like that.” Said Bdubs.

Jevin looked at Grian’s icon, which said he was inactive seconds after he sent the messages. “I think that’s all for now folks.”

“Should we burn them?” Zed asked.

“Now why in the world would we burn them?” Replied Cub.

“No use in bickering among ourselves,” Said TFC, holding up his hands. “Lets be calm and organized before we make any hasty decisions.”

“TFC is right,” Joe added, standing up from where he had taken post comforting Mumbo. “In times like these we gotta ask ourselves WWXS, or as I like to say the long way, what would Xisuma do? We don’t have time for any elaborate plans, so we gotta use our collective, Hermit family gut. What do we do… surrounded by the enemy… crammed in a tiny hole… without an Admin?”

There was no splash to announce his arrival. No tap of footsteps on the stone. Not even the fluttering of wings or the _whoom_ sound of teleportation magic. “I think you should start with apologizing.” Said Tricer, giant purple eyes shining through their mask as they spread their wings to block the exit.

“I-is that Grian?” Stress squeaked.

“Uh-huh.” Swallowed Mumbo.

“Now folks, lets not twist our own arms behind our backs this could just be a great big misundersta-”

Tricer lunged forwards with a very feral, not okay growl, pinning Joe to the ground. The temporary Admin yelped as his skull cracked against the stone floor, his glasses flying up his face and coming to a rest at his hair line. Joe’s fuzzy vision (from the fall and the lack of magical seeing eye pieces) looked up at Grian, or Tricer, or whatever this thing was, the bright purple shine of his eyes burning into Joe’s own.

Impulse and Ren ran forwards to help their friend, grabbing Tricer by the biceps and yanking the weird Hermit-Watcher-Tricer-Grian monster away from Joe. And though he was a builder, Grian was never the strongest guy in world, especially when there were _two_ people wrestling him to the floor both wearing full gear.

Luckily for the Amendments, Tricer was not Grian.

No, Tricer _snarled_ and threw them off of his back by unfurling his wings and smacking them away with the force, spinning on his heel to face the people attacking them. The Watcher held out their hands as if to show the Hermit’s their new claws before they charged Ren, tackling him to the ground next. Tricer let out a very high, quivering screech that made everyone cover their ears as they slammed Ren down. If it wasn’t for the mask, Ren was almost sure Tricer would have bitten his head off. Beef and Crafted threw Tricer into the nearby wall by grabbing him by the flailing wings, the mineshaft shaking and raining dust on everyone’s head. As Tricer’s head hit the wall, the mask on his face slid off and hung uselessly around his neck.

It was a hard decision, but Impulse drew his sword and pointed it at Tricer’s neck. The skin there was still human, much like the exhausted face looking up at him was.

Everyone’s communicators beeped.

_Grian: Well, little Hermits, lets play a game of Hide and Seek_

The beast in front of them let out a high whimper, purple eyes dimming to reveal big, brown, very scared ones in their stead. “Impulse?” Asked Grian in a small voice as the builder shrunk back into the wall behind him. Then he reached out and grabbed the hilt of Impulse’s sword, holding the blade to his own chest. “Please, please, quickly I’m so sorry I don’t want to-” Grian disappeared in a flurry of thick, purple particles and a single golden feather.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Once Ex collapsed without explanation, Xisuma ran for Scar’s room. He found a rather peaceful scene, Scar practicing small spells as Cleo read to him. The vase Scar was levitating was dropped when Xisuma all but threw open the door, grabbing the wizard and taking him back to his room with the curious zombie in hot pursuit.

Ex’s form is laid on the bed heaving. Deep purple leaks onto the sheets and drips down the side of the bed as Scar swallows and crouches next to the Voidkind. He just looks like he’s sleeping. Scar carefully pulls a red crystal out of his pocket. Xisuma scowls at it, because _where_ did Scar get that, but as Scar held out the gem to Ex’s covered side, Xisuma felt cool relief blossom over his burning ribcage. Scar very carefully pushed on Ex’s shoulder, surprised when he met something solid and was able to move it, turning the man onto his back and healing the rest of the wounds.

Xisuma slid down the wall with a heavy sigh and Cleo sat next to him. “Xisuma, what happened?”

“We touched,” Xisuma said regrettably. “We started to touch and when that happens the magic wears off.”

“The magic holding you apart?” Cleo asked. X shut his eyes and nodded, watching Scar carefully check Ex for any more wounds. Where the wizard’s hands trailed along Ex’s skin, his fingers did not turn black and clawed. Neither of them winced in pain and if anything, it felt almost as if someone was tickling Xisuma from the light touches Scar was using to inspect Ex.

“Scar.” Xisuma said with grit teeth. The wizard snapped his hands away from the sleeping creature and Xisuma smiled. “He’s all good.”

Scar walked over to his Admin and sat down on the side of him not occupied by a Cleo. “So. We’ve had our night of rest, right? What now?”

Xisuma rubbed his face, shook his head, and stood up to crack his back. “I suggest everyone eats, packs up, and meets me in here while Ex wakes up. Then we… go, I guess. We get Grian and we bring him home.”

Cleo looked down at her communicator and snorted before she stood up. “Right. Let’s go then. Onwards!” She stuffed it away and disappeared out the door. Scar gave Xisuma a smile and followed her, leaving the Admin with his (again) injured brother.

The Hermits did not leave Xisuma waiting. Doc and False trickled in first. The creeper looked… almost… hyper, unable to sit still for long. False had clearly polished up her armour last night, because when her cape swished with her movements Xisuma certainly saw the diamond sparkle. Iskall came in with his eyepiece upside down which Doc got a good laugh out of, but it was an easy fix. When the other immortal of the group came in grinning, everyone noticed that while his horns were even shorter than before, his fangs were almost definitely bigger. Cleo walked in as plain as she did the day they jumped into the End portal, no armour, just the cape, a bag full of overpowered potions, and a grin. Scar entered last. In his hand was clutched a green crystal and in his pocket was a red one. His bag was heavy with the books he had successfully worked his way through and it was an amazing feeling after the failure of the day before.

With the white noise of the Hermit’s excited and nervous chatter, Ex woke. His side didn’t burn anymore, but he could feel Xisuma’s stare digging into him. When Ex glared back, Xisuma only cleared his throat and raised his hands. “Okay everyone. I hope you’re ready because it’s about time we go get that trickster of ours.”

The adventuring party looked back on Xeir as they flew away. Some where happy to see it’s glowing towers fade into the inky blackness of the void, others weren’t. Now what laid before them was nothing but danger. The anxiety that itches under one’s armour and makes one’s hands sweaty and shaky began to fill the group There was no laughing, no giggling, no taunting like these flights were usually full of. There was only anxious silence and the last cries of hope.

Ex started singing. The sound was hard to translate from Void Speak and he started under his breath but it was a tune Xisuma remembered playing himself. “Do you feel the fire roaring, roaring on about life, roaring up a revolution even in the darkest night… Do you feel earth move, the earth move and change, the earth move with it’s people who will be one once again… Do you feel the boat swaying, swaying on strange new seas, swaying with the hymns of people who demand to be free…”

False began laughing, a truly joyful sound as she remembered her friend singing such a similar song. She too began humming along, because even if she didn’t know the lyrics, she could match the tune. Xisuma grinned at her and sang with his brother, “Take our will, take our homes! Take our freedom, never take our souls!”

The song almost stopped when Tango dove into some of the worst beatboxing known to man. The adventuring party busted out laughing, even Ex, who by at that point, none of the Hermits quite remembered hearing him laugh. It was big and filled the empty space and a surprisingly high, sweet sound. Luckily, the Hermits didn’t let the laughter stop them and Ex picked the lyrics back up again, “Do you see the hope, the hope of strong souls, the hope soon their life will be their own! Do you see the love, love that stands strong, love that suffers great but lives long! Do you see the strength, strength found in many, strength found in a group of strangers becoming family!”

No matter how much they may have complained about the obnoxious singing, Iskall and Doc chimed in too. Cleo tried to sing along with the lyrics she didn’t know, which was just a lot of murmuring sounds that weren’t words but were close enough to sound okay. Instead of leading the group through the void Xisuma began flying circles around his friends, laughing and egging them on as they continued on their perilous path, singing. When that song ended, Cleo took to singing Ex some Overworld songs. Tango sang them something from the Nether which sounded kind of terrifying, and Doc sang a song in a different Overworld language the Hermits had only heard him speak when his redstone wasn’t working.

The Admin righted himself at the front of the group as the laughter slowly began to die down from Doc’s awful voice crack. He stopped very suddenly and splayed out his wings, resulting in the Hermits panicking and having to turn around so they could glide back in the right direction and see what Xisuma was looking at without diving right into it.

The Amendments Castle stood before them. It did not rest on and endstone island like Xeir or the Void Castle, but seemed to come out of the void itself. Made of bedrock, obsidian, purpur, and endstone, it seemed cut from the void and lit by stars.

Xisuma and Ex used their wings to keep themselves upright as they observed from a far. Not like it would change anything, at this point they had to be in Watcher territory even if they weren’t in the Castle. If they were caught out here, they were just as dead. The Hermits flew circles around them, unable to properly control their stiff wings, whispering to each other as they broke apart so they wouldn’t be stuck in pairs.

“X, buddy, we have to go in at some point.” Cleo said.

Without further prompting, the Admin dove towards the lowest point of the castle.

The entrance looked very similar to that of the Deadquarters. It was just as eerie. It was a large, open hall for fliers to land on safely. The archways stood twice as tall as _Ex_ , and when the Voidkind pushed past Xisuma to land first, even he shuddered. Ex moved around carefully as if to feel for traps. Xisuma distantly thought there would be no chance of the creature made mostly of shadow to set them off anyways.

The Hermits landed behind him, all the soft tap of feet and low sound of careful breaths.

Xisuma checked over his shoulder to make sure everyone was ready and gave them a curt nod. False drew her sword and nodded back. Doc did nothing but hold his trident aloft over everyone’s head for a long-range attack. Iskall prepared his sword and stood close to False, giving her a small smile. Tango brandished his golden blade and gave Xisuma a flash of wickedly sharp teeth with his terse nod. Cleo gripped a splash potion bottle that looked far too dark to be brewed properly, and Scar clutched a tiny green crystal in his hand.

Ex was already walking down the hall, no, gliding, as if he had been in this Castle before and knew it well.

Xisuma rushed forwards and grabbed Ex’s arm. The Voidkind went as still as a dead man and relaxed only when Xisuma let go of him. “We are a team, Xisuma.” Whispered the Admin. “You’re part of this team. Get in the ranks, soldier.”

Being led back to the Hermits, Ex’s big eyes blinked slowly as he looked at the them, how determined they were despite the fear he could see rolling off of them in waves. Xisuma brought everyone into a tight crouch, like it would be harder for the god-like Watchers to find them like that.

“Okay fellas, I have a plan. It’s janky, but it’s a plan. Are we ready?”

“Sir yes sir.” Cleo grinned.

“Goodness me.” Grunted Xisuma, shaking his head. “Okay. I go first, then-”

“No,” Said Ex, voice above a whisper. It got him a glare, but also some respect. “I’ll go first. They’ll see me as another Voidkind before anything else. For you guys, they see little mortal toys. And. Tango Toys (“heheh, _Tango Toys_ ”). Let me go first, Xisuma.”

The Admin found it in himself to smile and nodded. “Okay, new plan, that’s a little less janky. Ex will go first. We have to protect Scar and Cleo, because they’ll be doing the most damage with their magic and have all the healing. So I think if Ex brings up the front with Tango behind him, then Iskall and False, you can defend the magicians with your swords on the sides. Doc will take up the back with long range attacks and I’ll stick with him, but if we get caught in a bad place I’ll go wherever I’m needed to keep you all safe.”

“You’re leaving here alive too, Xisuma.” Said Doc.

“Yeah,” Grinned Tango. “Can’t get rid of us that easy.”

Ex snorted. Cleo elbowed him and Xisuma grunted at the impact. The circle of scared Hermits laughed under their breaths and stood to get into a proper formation.

Scar shook in the center of the group, looking around at his friends. He wasn’t worth being in the middle. He didn’t want their protection, because he liked to believe he could defend himself, but he also didn’t want them getting hurt trying to help him and his clumsiness. Cleo grabbed Scar’s hand, the one which held the luck crystal, and grinned. Her green eyes flashed the same colour as the crystal and Scar realized her smile was a big bigger than usual because her _mouth_ was bigger than usual.

“Cleo, are you feeling alright?” Scar whispered.

The zombie gave him a firm nod and held his crystal-clutching hand aloft as if to remind Scar he had the crystals. “Right as rain.”

Iskall smacked Cleo on the shoulder and False patted Scar’s back before flipping down the visor of her helmet. Scar totally didn’t take out _Moving Enchantments_ and whispered Protection III onto everyone.

Ex looked over his shoulder at Tango and got a big grin from the demon. Ex chuckled and began walking down the hall, the Hermits in pursuit. Doc gave Xisuma a stern look and shook the man’s hand before jogging down the hall after the party. Xisuma gulped and followed loyally, looking up at the foreboding walls of Amendment Castle knowing anything and everything bad could happen right here any second.

The Castle felt endless. The Hermits could have guessed they were walking for hours. The soft carpet and beautiful works of stained glass on the walls made the giant building feel oddly safe, but everyone knew they couldn’t relax there. Every sound, be it the drip of some liquid, a foot step not gentle enough, or what _had_ to be the wind in these endless corridors, made everyone jump. Each corner was a tantalizing threat that gave no satisfaction to the Hermits when turned, only higher blood pressure.

The Hermits reached their final dead end of the first floor. Turning around was even worse then turning the corners, but nothing was there thank the gods. Or not. Don’t thank the Watchers. Now came the spiraling staircase. The adventuring party drifted up the steps, watching Ex fill the passage with his body. It felt safe, because he was covering them, but also terrifying, because they couldn’t see what was coming. Finally, Ex led them out of the staircase and into another endless hall.

Scar _refused_ to let the beautiful decorations and attention to detail steal his attention.

Drifting down the halls was a tantalizing, beautiful adventure. Unlike the first floor, Ex stopped checking every room and moving down every hallway. He stayed on the main path, led down the hall by the purple carpet. Iskall and False took it upon themselves to point their swords down the branches to make sure nothing was lurking.

Strangely, the second floor felt much smaller than the first. The main hallway was much shorter, but that was because the adventuring party stood before a giant pair of obsidian doors. They looked up at the clear threat, and then back at Xisuma. The Admin’s face was unreadable as he stared at the bedrock handles. He shut his eyes to take a deep breath and nodded firmly, so Ex curled his fingers around the handle. He looked back to the Hermits and frowned, looking at their little scared faces, and held up three fingers.

One.

Two.

Three.

Ex swung open the doors and Tango jumped around him, brandishing his sword. False and Iskall moved forwards with precise steps, creating a line of armed soldiers in front of the rest of the group.

“Hello!” Beamed a high, cheery voice from a throne at the end of the room. Speker sat in their throne, a small communicator clutched in their giant hands. “Perhaps you could explain these lovely contraptions to me! Grian was so kind as to allow me to borrow his. The little typing mechanism is so interesting!”

The adventuring party moved forwards into the room. Xisuma shouldered his way past his friends and to the front of the line, standing even before the armed Hermits who wanted to protect him. The Admin hissed at the Watcher without a second thought, baring his too-human teeth. “Where is Grian?”

“A pleasure to finally meet you as _well,_ XisumaVoid. Or, part of you.” Speker snorted, looking to Ex. “How lovely to see you again.”

The Hermits, who until that moment had done very well at keeping their cool, froze. At this point, their formation now surrounded Ex, guarding _him_ from the Watchers, and the Voidkind seemed to shuffle and waver in place. Tango looked over his shoulder at the giant thing and raised an eyebrow as if to say “dude?”. Scar gulped when he saw Doc lower his trident to aim at Ex’s head.

“What are you talking about?” Demanded Xisuma, not looking back at his brother, his shadow part, because he knew if he did he would most certainly break.

Speker smiled. Lisener and Seer appeared on either side of them, making the already spooked Hermits bristle. How many did Ex say there were again? Speker stood, carefully pressing the soft buttons of the communicator with the tip of their claw. “These little machines are amazing, XisumaVoid. Beautiful craftsmanship. I would appreciate them more if your little Hermits didn’t use them to keep information from their gods.”

“You will never be the gods of us!” False shouted.

“I finally get to meet the Queen of Hearts and Body Parts.” Speker said, tilting their head inquisitively. “Although, she has never been the Queen of anything. Perhaps she hopes to be?”

“Leave her alone.” Demanded Iskall.

“Your Hermits are falling out of your control, Xisuma.” Speker giggled, crushing Grian’s communicator in their hand. “It’s sad to watch, really. They had so much hope that you would come save them.”

Seer slid down the steps to stand next to Speker and leaned up to whisper in their ear before returning to their post next to the throne. Speker clapped, broken shards of communicator falling on the ground uselessly as they walked back towards their throne. “Perfect! Tricer is finally ready. Xisuma, dear?”

Everyone gasped as Taer appeared on the steps leading to the throne, holding up Grian. The poor man was wearing nothing but black shorts and a skin tight black shirt. He was taller and looked be physically stronger, but in that moment, he looked exhausted and… sad, really. The strange black matter that had taken Xisuma’s left hand and most of his right arm was crawling up Grian’s legs and had completely swallowed his hands up the elbow. The Hermit had wings now, which was crazy in itself, but they hung limply instead of neatly folded as his back and there was evidence of certain feathers being torn out. The builder’s head lolled as he looked up to his friends. The exhausted eyes when wide and Grian began shaking his head, trying to struggle against Taer’s grip on his shoulders. “No, no, run, RUN! I don’t want to do this don’t make me do this please, please, please let me _go_!” Cried the Trickster.

Xisuma had heard his name and stepped forwards. Perhaps his sacrifice would be able to save Grian. But when Ex sidestepped the Hermits protecting him and walked towards the steps of the throne, the Admin realized Speker was asking for _that_ Xisuma.

And the Admin could only watch in horror as the screaming Trickster was put to sleep by a mask with red eyes much like Xisuma’s own being pulled over his face. Doc reacted as anyone would when they’re hurt and threw his trident right at Ex’s head. Unfortunately, the enchanted item flew right through the shadow that was Evil Xisuma and impaled the wall instead, refusing to return to Doc’s outstretched hand. The Voidkind only looked at the Hermits and snorted before he picked up Grian, walked into the shadow of the throne, and disappeared.

“Sorry about that.” Said Speker. “Where were we?”


	17. Chapter Seventeen

The Hermits were well and truly cornered. Panic had already begun among them and they resorted to leaning on each other, tightening their ranks. Because Doc’s trident’s loyalty enchantment seemed to be royally failing, he pulled out a sword with a low hiss. Xisuma bared his teeth and for the first time in seven years, he missed his monstrous void body.

The Watchers in front of them looked like they had found new toys.

“God you’re all so cute.” Said Seer. Speker smirked and Tango snarled, pouring all his rage into his stare and glowering daggers into the Watchers before him. So, Speker lifted their hand, and Tango was pulled off of the ground.

Xisuma and Iskall lunged forwards, grabbing at Tango’s cape and trying to drag him back to them, but the Watcher magic held them apart. Lisener waved their hand and all who weren’t Tango were wrestled to their knees by the force, the carpeted floor biting into them as the demon kicked and struggled against the magic.

“I have never seen a demon before.” Seer said in awe, looking Tango up and down. They even put Tango into a small spin, observing the demon like he wasn’t really there. Tango let out a _roar_ , trying to kick the Watcher in the face.

“Put him down!” False screeched, unable to move against the magic holding her.

The Admin scrunched his eyes shut, trying so hard to reach for his Admin magic. It sat at the end of his consciousness, so close and yet so far, tantalizing him in the worst of ways. The small Voidkind could feel the magic still funneling through his being pushing against the void magic around him like it was invading his personal space. Xisuma smirked and grabbed onto that feeling. His blood roared in his ears and went hot under his skin as it reached into the magic around him and _pulled_.

The breath seemed to be pulled from Lisener for a moment as they staggered forwards. The magic they had been using to hold the Hermits down broke. Speker shot up from their seat as Seer dropped Tango to the floor, but Doc was already moving.

When the creeper had first been domesticated, it had taken awhile for his pack instincts to fade. After seeing his friends in their current state, those instincts the very same were flooding back at such a force it made him dizzy. So, the creeper threw himself at the nearest Watcher, all teeth and claws, and brought Lisener to the ground.

In the next moment, three things happened.

The Hermits, a usually calm, peaceful people ran into battle with swords raised.

The magic Xisuma had felt heating his blood the moment before began to boil.

And Doc was thrown off of Lisener with a wave of powerful magic, sending the mortal flying across the room until he slammed into the faraway wall and slid down.

The two healers of the group glanced at each other with deep scowls and Cleo nodded as she extracted herself from the fight and ran to Doc’s aid. Scar could hold his own, she told herself, she knew he could. But in that moment, as much as he may have denied it, Doc certainly couldn’t.

The creeper was trying to sit up and miserably failing. The side of him that had met the wall and taken most of the force was luckily his cybernetic side, so no real part of him was hurt, but the man couldn’t stop twitching. The wires sticking out of him in all the wrong places still burnt with redstone power, the plates recalibrated randomly, and the springs tightened and shot out at strange intervals, meaning the entirety of Doc’s left arm was useless. The left side of his cranium was completely dented, right to where his eyepiece met the metal side of his face, and the red lens there was shattered.

“Doc, stay down.” Cleo begged, because she knew nothing she or Scar had could fix this.

“No, no way,” Doc hissed, trying to get up once more. This time, he made it onto his knees, but then the spring of his elbow recoiled and his face hit the floor. Cleo carefully pushed him onto his back, green eyes shimmering with something that looked a lot like fear. Doc felt panic rise up in him too. “I have to keep fighting, I have to.”

“If you don’t stay down, I’ll unplug you,” the zombie laughed, wiping away tears.

Doc’s eye widened when he saw a wound open next to Cleo’s eye just from her touching it. Luckily her nervous system was shot and pain wasn’t really something that stopped her from doing much of anything, but touching her skin had never made it miraculously split before. The zombie wasn’t that zombified. At least, Doc didn’t think so, so he went to ask. “Cleo?”

Across the room, in the heat of battle, Xisuma _screeched_.

It was not a human screech. A human, a creeper, a demon, nothing that any of the Hermits had seen before had ever made that sound, not even a Voidkind. It was one, high note so loud Cleo could have swore she saw Doc’s red eye crack more. But maybe she was just delirious, because then the zombie collapsed on top of the creeper, her mouth opening and closing as a hapless groan left her.

The Admin had never gotten off of his knees. He had curled into himself as the magic he hadn’t used in so long decided it was time to wake up in such a way the mortal body he inhabited couldn’t handle it. His skin burned and itched and his head pounded with his heartbeat, making him shake and sweat and do everything one shouldn’t be doing in the middle of the battle while trying to protect his friends. Xisuma sobbed as his stomach flipped and his body tried to reject itself. He wavered as his broken head began spinning around a loop of _Ex Ex Ex Ex X X X X X Xisuma Xisuma Xisuma_

No matter how much they wanted to, no Hermit could run to their Admin’s aid. Doc was unable to move, _something_ had happened to Cleo, and, well, the others were fighting.

Iskall was doing an amazing job at being distracting. He stabbed Lisener and Taer in unimportant places, like where he imagined their feet would be, in quick procession, so the Watchers became angrier and angrier. Their attacks became quick and sloppy, lashing out at Iskall uselessly, while False laid down more precise strikes of her blade, slicing through the void matter that made up Voidkind where she envisioned their necks would be. Fighting something with nebulous anatomy was really annoying though. Even though False and Iskall had extremely different fighting styles, amounts of practices, and had never truly fought side by side before, they felt in their element. As the two humans danced around the two Watchers with swords swinging, they saw the Watchers beginning to creep up the stairs as the Hermits successfully pushed them back.

Even though he was by himself, Tango was truly kicking butt. The demon had done something very similar to Doc, which was to Go Feral and Kick Butt. Lucky for Tango, his teeth and claws also involved proper fighting techniques with a sword, not just _Bite._ The demon jumped at the Watcher trying to swing at him, snarling like he _was_ going to bite them, and then slashed with his sword before using his immortal strength and agility to jump out of the way of a burst of fire coming from Seer’s glowing hands. At one point, Tango swung his sword in a wide arc and then vaulted himself over the Watcher, dragging his claws down their back before sliding out of the way when they spun to retaliate. It felt _really_ good to make this Watcher eat dirt (would endstone or dirt be more insulting to eat, he wondered), after they taunted him.

That left Scar, brave Scar, to handle the biggest of the Watchers alone, clutching _Beginners Melee Magic_ with shaking hands he was yet to trust. As true battles were roaring around them, and Xisuma was quite literally roaring behind him, Speker was just grinning. In anything, they looked bored of the fight Scar was putting up in front of them. Everything the wizard threw something like _Fireball_ or _Twist Wind_ or _Drown_ at the Watcher, they would either side step the poorly aimed spell or hold up one of their own to counter it. As Scar desperately tried to find new pages with better spells, he struggled to admit that Speker had landed a strike of what he could only describe as a literal star on him, singeing the shoulder of his cape and revealing seared skin.

“Come on then, magician! Show me something exciting!” Speker taunted, drawing a circle around Scar as they grew a second star in their hand. “Your little friend spoke _so_ highly of you and I am sure you must feel lucky that he isn’t here to see you fail!”

Scar’s sweaty fingers nearly slipped on the smooth cover of _Beginners Melee Magic._ “Wha- who, no, stop it! Stop it!” He shouted, firing _Lightning_ in a fit of rage. Speker expertly dodged and it hit the obsidian wall across the room, doing exactly nothing.

“Who?” Speker asked. They tossed the small star from hand to hand as if it was a toy and it’s light burned into Scar’s eyes. “The bearded one I believe.”

The wizard went still for a moment. Cub. The Watchers had seen Cub. They had _spoken_ to Cub. The Watchers had seen Hermitcraft and Scar was scared to find out what they had done to it. And in that moment, that terrifying moment, Scar felt no fear. He threw down the book and let the rage fill him instead, something sharp and cool growing in his hands as the intense feeling of pure magic built inside of the builder. No. The wizard.

With the rage of a thousand Scars, the wizard let loose everything he had into the Watcher leader. Every ounce of fear and upset and _anger_ he had in that moment he released. He shook with the effort to hold his hands steady as nothing but pure light shone from his palms and fired the Watcher across the room. Speker shrieked as they were propelled into the wall and _held_ there by what felt like an endless stream of magic.

As the magic began to sear the wizard’s hands, Scar began to scream, hot tears of his frustrations finally being released running down his face. These Watchers would not hurt his friends anymore, he declared, and finally the heavy magic stopped flowing through him.

Speker slid down the wall and collapsed. Lisener and Seer made eye contact for a split second and disappeared.

For a moment, the four fighting Hermits caught their breaths and looked at Scar with bright, proud eyes. Then, Xisuma sobbed out in pain, and they ran back into the action. The fight wasn’t over yet. Their Admin was hurt, Cleo and Doc weren’t standing back up, and Grian wasn’t safely among their ranks.

Scar rushed to Xisuma’s side. The Admin was hunched over himself, face pressed into the floor as his body racked with sobs and the feeling of magic he had no control over trying to escape. Iskall and False ran towards Cleo and Doc as Tango tried to help Xisuma up, but the man screamed in pain as the muscles made his muscles burn with hellfire Xisuma could have sworn was Tango’s fault.

The demon looked to the wizard hopelessly, but the newly confident wizard had hope. From his pocket, he pulled a red gem, beginning to rub Xisuma’s back with it clutched in his palm. Scar hummed a sweet tune, and slowly the humming grew into high whistling. Xisuma’s sobs began to damper, but still he shook. Scar’s singular braincell had a light bulb moment and he looked to Tango. “Get one of Cleo’s healing potions.”

The scene on the other side of the room was actually awful.

The creeper had managed to push himself away from what his friend had became. Still, his mechanics were failing him, but he managed to get them to behave for long enough to crawl away from Cleo. The zombie was on her side, twitching, moaning, and unresponsive. Whenever Iskall or False tried to get close, she reached for them and snapped her teeth only to moan louder when they pulled away. Luckily, from the point of being not eaten, the zombie was unable to get up and what little movement she did had was becoming slower. Unluckily, the Hermits did not know what that meant for their good friend Cleo.

“Help her. You have to help her!” Doc said. His arm twinged and his fell onto his back, smacking his head on the ground with a hiss. As Iskall inched closer to him, Doc lashed out and almost punched him. “Sorry! I’m sorry. I can’t control it.” The creeper whined.

“I know, I know. It’s okay bro.” Iskall replied, looking over his shoulder at False who stared at Cleo incredulously. What does one do in this situation? Iskall didn’t have time to think about that when Doc punched _himself,_ groaning curses in that strange language again. “Okay, Doc, I’m going to have to unplug you.”

“Of course.” Hissed the creeper. He turned his head to give Iskall full access to the dented mess that was his cranium. “Go wild.”

Since it was kind of hard to do anymore damage to the cybernetics then what was already done, Iskall reached in and began pulling out every wire his fingers could get around until Doc stopped twitching. The creeper could finally sit up, but maneuvering with nothing but dead weight on the entirety of your left side was kind of awful. Not only that, but without his cybernetic eye, Doc could only see in pale shades of grey, and everything was fuzzy. He was in for a long flight home.

If they did get home at least, because at that point it was unsure. Scar was trying to cure all of Xisuma’s blood with a tiny crystal and Tango and False were watching Cleo deteriorate, trying to find out a way to get the potions from her without being bitten or just waiting for her to die, because, dear god, that wasn’t not going to be an option today. No way.

“Wait,” Tango said before laughing. “I’m a demon!”

The absolute buffoon that was Tango crouched and stuck out his arm. Cleo lurched forwards on her stomach, grabbing onto his arm with rotting fingernails and digging yellowed teeth into Tango. Did it hurt? Oh yes, like the Nether, but Tango just gritted his teeth and let the zombie poison run its course. He knew the virus couldn’t survive the high body temperature of a demon, so even if he felt a little dizzy, he knew he would survive. The demon slumped onto one side and giggled a little bit, very delirious. “Well? Grab the potion Falsey!”

The human stared in horror, but hey, it was a solution, so she dove in while she could and grabbed the half empty potion bottle Cleo had used on Ex. As she ran back to Xisuma and Scar, Iskall and Doc pulled Tango away from Cleo as gingerly as they could.

Scar uncorked the bottle and rolled Xisuma onto his back even as the Admin flinched and sobbed. His face was flushed an ugly purple colour and his eyes were screwed shut as they leaked purple too, but Scar had no time to think as the wrenched the man’s jaw open with a tight grip on his chin and poured the healing potion down his throat.

Xisuma sputtered. He cried a little louder, and then gasped for air, and then covered his face as the world spun. It was official. Xisuma was never letting Joe near a brewing stand ever again. Xisuma went limp on the floor as the burning that had consumed him faded away in the place of the healing potion. The cool feeling of relief flooded through him and made him shiver for a moment, but after staying down for a count of thirty seconds, the Admin felt secure enough to sit up.

Across the room, Cleo gasped for air, pushing herself upright and hawking a ball of spit on the floor.

“Oh my gods,” She murmured, smacking herself. “Oh my gods, I just went full zombie. I just went full zombie. Oh Tango! Tango I am _so_ sorry!” She cried.

Tango snorted. “Are you kidding me? That was so cool! I got, like, zombied for a second!”

The three around him stared with wide, unbelieving eyes. No way he actually enjoyed almost being eaten alive by a close friend.

Short on time to worry about those implications, Iskall helped Tango stand. When lopsided Doc and quickly healing Tango leaned on each other they were able to make it over to where the others sat in a relieved heap. Iskall reached down to pull Cleo to her feet and the girl flinched back as if she was unsure if she could trust herself.

“You’re okay.” Iskall whispered, flexing his fingers. Cleo slowly slid her decaying fingers across Iskall’s palm before finding her bravery and locking her grip around his wrist. He heaved her onto her feet and walked with her across the room.

The bruised and battered Hermits fell into a heap, panting and smiling and feeling overall pretty good about the outcome of that fight. They had not expected to win at all.

“Okay,” Xisuma grunted from underneath Doc. “this has been nice fellas, but now we _really_ have to find Grian. And kill my brother.”

Suddenly the Hermits went still as rocks. Not in control of their own bodies, they were forced to sit up, their backs pressed together in an uncomfortably tight circle. Their hands were balled into fists in their laps where they could do not harm. Their faces were forced to look forwards so none could see what was happening but Xisuma, and he couldn’t even tell them, because their tongues were glued to the top of their mouths and their jaws were trapped in place.

Speker had stood from where Scar had power blasted them into the wall. The Watcher looked very, very angry as their three partners appeared behind them and the four began advancing to what was left of the adventuring party.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Pulling himself from the shadows, Ex looked around the room the Watchers had given Grian. It wasn’t the biggest of rooms, but it was generously decorated and filled with books, which Ex was quite pleased with. A window on the far wall contained a stained-glass image of Grian being crowned as a Watcher. Long endrods dripped from the ceiling as the only light source, but it was just enough to see. Ex had to snort at the Watcher’s choice to use bedrock as a decoration, the show-offs. There was a large desk with a plush seat underneath the stained-glass window and a bigger bed right next to them, covered in far too many pillows and enough blankets to drown in.

Ex laid Grian on the bed gingerly, making sure not to hurt his wings. He gently pulled on each one to spread them out underneath him so they wouldn’t cramp or get pulled. The human felt like nothing but skin and bones in the Voidkind’s hands despite his new size. The void matter staining his arms and legs reached for Ex whenever the Voidkind got close and he finally realized what Speker had been talking about when they said they could fix him.

With no mass of his own, Ex was only a shadow, so he could do things like allow tridents to fly right through his head without doing harm. But things such as touching, like carrying Grian right now, took far more effort than it should have because the Voidkind had to focus on the places he touched things to keep them there. It was a strange realization when Ex saw the Amendments were trying to replace the mass Xisuma had taken with the mass Grian possessed.

Or in simpler terms, the Amendments were giving Ex Grian’s body.

The mask on Grian’s face taunted him. It was the shape of a crest, painted a dark grey. Instead of having holes for the eyes like most masks Watchers bestowed upon their victims, gauze had been placed down so the wearer could still see but their eyes were no clear. The gauze was painted red like Ex’s own eyes, the same shade and everything. Instead of a strap to hold it onto Grian’s face, Ex could see a small purple glow where it touched his skin. The attention to detail was creepy, even showing off a small mark Ex had on the left side of his forehead, and the Voidkind reached for the mask to take it away. He didn’t want to look at it anymore.

As the Voidkind shuffled away to put the offending mask down on the bedside table, the human woke up. The feeling of the mind control magic the mask possessed was always a thick soup in which Grian could only watch what his body was doing and saying uselessly. As it faded, it was like peering through deep fog and falling back into your own possession. Grian kept his eyes shut and tried to keep his breathing under control as he listened for movement in the room. Unluckily for him, without mass Ex didn’t make much noise, resulting in Grian laying there like he was comatose, waiting for someone to make a move.

Finally, Ex reached out. He placed a gentle hand on Grian’s forehead and the builder’s eyes snapped open before any magic could lick at Ex’s hands as he lunged and tried to tackle Ex around the waist. Since the shadow was surprised, it actually worked, and they went tumbling to the ground over the side of the bed.

Ex yelped, smacking into the floor and sinking into the shadows there before appearing next to bed standing again. “Grian!” He complained, stepping towards the Hermit.

Grian shot up and ran away from Ex, sliding to the other side of the room and panting, a wild look in his eyes as his spread out his wings. “Who are you!?” He snapped.

“Xisuma.” Replied the Voidkind.

The human before him snorted, lip lifting in a snarl. “You are not Xisuma. Not in a thousand years.”

“Ironic,” Said Ex. “Because that’s exactly what happened.”

The Hermit shifted nervously, eyeing Ex like he could strike at any moment. “What, what do you want with me?” He asked. Grian scowled at himself when his voice broke to show his fear.

“It’s nothing to do with you, actually, and everything to do with Xisuma and the Hermits. You’re just advantage.” Ex shrugged, stepping closer to Grian. The builder made a point of showing off his claws and the purple magic that sparked there. Ex smirked. “I’m sure Speker told you of the plan.”

“I’m sure Speker told you I’m stubborn.” Grian hissed. “I’m no one’s puppet.”

“Listen Grian,” Ex sighed, shifting ever so closer until Grian backed up and bumped into the desk. “This weird situation is one big misunderstanding. I led the Hermits here, to you, just as I promised. I told them from the start they would not be strong enough to defeat a Watcher, but did they listen? No. So now we’re here, and I need your help to tie up the lose ends and make sure-”

“Now I really know you’re not Xisuma.” Grian smirked as Ex twinged, seeing he had struck a nerve. “Because Xisuma doesn’t betray people, no matter how much he hates them. He doesn’t use them, or hurt them, or treat them like expendable _toys_.”

Imagine for a moment you are a mortal. A mortal with magic, maybe, but a mortal nonetheless. You are trapped in a small room with an immortal who has invested interest in your body and quite literally inhabiting it without your consent. That small room is inside a large castle where more immortals are waiting to torture you and are probably torturing your friends. What can you do in this situation that will end well for those involved you actually like?

Grian threw himself at Ex, hands blazing with void magic as he used his hurt wings to propel himself across the room.

Ex leaped into the nearest shadow and reappeared standing on the desk with a deep scowl. “Are you serious right now?”

The builder looked around for a moment for anything he could use, eyes lighting up as he grabbed an obsidian fire poker from the fireplace. He shook it in his hands and the fire poker grew into a long, twisted staff that glowed at the pointed end. Grian jumped forwards to stab Ex in the chest, but the new tool went right through. Ex raised an eyebrow at Grian and grabbed the Hermit by the neck, throwing him onto the bed hard enough to daze Grian without properly hurting him.

“If you stay down and let me explain, this will be much easier for the both of us.” Ex grunted.

Grian sat up and wiped the corner of his mouth, jumping over the end board of the bed and grabbing his dropped weapon. “Luckily for me I never do things the easy way.”

“You, you little Hermits are, are so _frustrating_.” Ex hissed, something a whole lot like regret dancing in his eyes. He jumped into the nearest shadow when Grian lunged, reappearing in the centre of the room. “Would you stop doing that?”

“So you can monologue?” Smirked Grian. “No way!”

The Hermit spun the staff in his hands, purple light crackling at the tip and creating a mesmerizing circle of purple flame around Grian. The builder redirected it at Ex, sending a bolt of pure magic right for the Voidkind’s chest. Not even the shadow that was Ex could reflect void magic like that, so he rolled out of the way. The bed behind him and the sea of blankets and mountain of pillows quickly went up in flames.

“You see Ex, there’s a difference between the Hermits and the Amendments.” Grian said, eyes big as he watched the fire swallow the back of the room. He took flight into the high ceilings and kicked one of the end rods, breaking it and watching it fall to the floor as the perfect projectile. As the light rained closer to Ex, all shadows around him disappeared, and the Voidkind was forced to dodge like a normal person. “Hermits are loyal and kind. Amendments are selfish and horrible! You are just another Amendment, picking battles so you can prove you were ever here! You’re fighting for yourself!” Grian kicked down another endrod, the ceiling letting out dust the entirety of the light was pulled from the yellow stone. “I’m fighting for my friends, and that’s why I’m going to _win_!”

Ex’s wings began to flutter as the Voidkind pulled himself into the air, lunging after Grian. Luckily for the builder, he was much smaller and could dodge between the end rods while Ex had to take the long way around them. He reached for Grian’s ankle, growling. “If you would just _stop_ for a second and listen-” Grian twisted midair and shot a small blast of magic into Ex’s face, the Voidkind letting out a shriek of pain and collapsing to the floor.

“You spent a week with those idiots!” Grian cried, landing as fire began to lick up the walls and the endrods shook all on their own. Ex laid on the floor, cradling his face as Grian panted by the desk. “I spent two days with them and I fell in love! They helped me forget everything the Watchers had done to, they helped me forget everything I had lost because of these monsters! Because of beasts like you!” He snapped, standing over Ex and bringing the staff down on his head.

The Voidkind grabbed the staff, hissing. Grian’s eyes widened for a moment and then a burst of force radiated from Ex, sending Grian flying and slamming him into the window. The glass shattered on impact and fell on top of the builder in multi-coloured rain as Grian hit the desk with a pained moan. Ex twisted the staff still in his hand and pointed it at the Hermit, snarling as light built at its tip. Grian pushed himself up against the endstone wall that had laid behind the glass work, face twisted with fear. Ex scowled.

“You- you talk so poorly about the Amendment’s righteousness and then preach about your own. You really are an Admin. Xisuma has an annoyingly similar habit.” Sneered Ex, slamming the staff into the floor and letting the light at the tip pressed into the floor build and build. Grian looked at his battered body, Ex with his staff, and then the burning wall behind him. The builder gulped, knowing what he had to do to give his friends the time to escape the castle. Grian’s gaze followed the fire up the back wall to where it met the ceiling, the stone unable to stand on the deteriorating wall.

Grian jumped up and shot himself off of the desk, flying over Ex’s head as the Voidkind dropped the staff and reached up to grab his leg. Grian lifted one wing to protect his face and other soft human parts and propelled himself to move faster with the other, ramming into the burning wall behind the bed. The fire scorched into his skin and he collapsed, gasping for air as the heady smoke of end fire filled his lungs.

The wall creaked. Something heavy fell. The ceiling groaned and end rods began falling all on their own, crashing with the sound of breaking glass and the hiss of old magic.

Ex cursed and lunged for Grian, “You _stupid_ little human!” The builder had done what he wanted to do. This part of the castle could no longer support itself and would collapse. He could only hope that would be enough to distract the other Watchers long enough that his friends could run and get back home safely. Grian grinned blearily, feeling the fire create wounds all over his skin as Ex covered his body with his own.

Holding Grian once more, the shadow leaped into a tiny shadow left by the collapsing, melted bed despite the overwhelming light levels of the room. The two came out of the shadow now in the main hallway across the castle from the fallen wall, Ex panting, Grian writhing in pain.

The Voidkind set to work healing the Hermit, large hands waving over the worst of the burns and stitching up any cracked skin. Grian cried and sputtered through the pain, endlessly confused by why the thing trying to take his body was healing him. Of course, then it clicked, because Ex would need a healthy body to inhabit. So even as he was pinned to the floor, still in outrageous amounts of pain, Grian kicked and screamed, and tried to free himself.

“Grian, shut up!” Ex demanded, finally clamping a hand over the builder’s mouth. Grian tried to bite, but Ex’s hand was too big for Grian to wrap his teeth around an edge. Ex rolled his eyes and pressed harder with his palm. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Meh rgbt!” Complained Grian from under Ex’s hand.

“What?” Ex asked, pulling his hand away.

“Yeah right!” Repeated the Hermit, spitting in Ex’s face.

Wiping away the spit and holding Grian down by a clawed hand on his chest, Ex rolled his eyes and grunted. “I am _serious_ Grian. If I didn’t agree to inhabiting your body, Taer would have done it. Do you really want Taer having complete control over you?”

Grian laid on the floor exhausted and in ebbing pain, eyes wide with confusion as he panted. This was a really, really weird day. “No.” He murmured in a small voice.

“ _Thank_ you.” Ex hissed. “I think we can save those stupid little Hermits if you just _behave_.”

“What if this is all a very elaborate ruse?” Grian squeaked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ex said, laying his free hand on Grian’s forehead. The Hermit’s eyes widened and he again tried to struggle as he felt the magic of the mask taking over his consciousness, even though Ex very obviously did not have one of those stupid mind controlling masks on him. Ex frowned at Grian’s panicked face and worked on completing the spell as quickly as he could as the builder struggled. “I’m doing it anyways.”


	19. Chapter Nineteen

It was in times like this TFC really, really missed his bunker.

The Hermits were in a panic. _Something_ really weird was going on with Grian and he had been kidnapped again. The Watchers were actively hunting them, or maybe they were meant to be hunting Grian. No one really knew.

What they did know, however, was that they needed to stay out of the Watcher’s way. If hiding in the thick jungles and living underground until a solid plan could be made was what had to happen then that’s what the Hermits would do. They would revert back to their namesake and disappear into the earth where no Amendments would be able to take or hurt them like they did Grian.

Ren offered up Loser Island. It was small and hard to find and if they wanted space for all the Hermits they could dig out under the island and into the sea… a lot of work Ren himself would rather have someone else do. His farms may have been small but they were enough to feed everyone for the time being, especially if he could move them underground and procure the help of some redstoners. More so, if everyone was in the same space, they could avoid their communicators because it was obvious the Watchers had a hold of Grian’s now. Before the Hermits could come over however, Ren had to hide newly-rescued Pamela, and Jevin had to promise to never cownap again. All terms agreed to, Loser Island wasn’t so empty.

Like he had hoped, the Hermits came, pickaxes over shoulders, and began excavating the earth underneath the sea. All but Mumbo, who was sitting on Ren’s bed, in the middle of a melt down.

“It’s pants! This is all pants, Ren, it’s absolutely ridiculous!” Mumbo gasped, his usually nicely-groomed hair sticking in every direction as he pulled on it. “I’m such a spoon! I should have noticed it was the mask! _Of course_ it was the mask!”

The castaway wasn’t going to lie, being in the sun for so long had dried him out. His head hurt and his sunburn was stinging but gosh darnit his friend needed his help so he sat on the bed and nudged Mumbo. “Listen Mumbolio, no one is going to blame you, especially not Gri.” He said. “No one else noticed. And either my name isn’t Ren-Diggity-Dog or we’ll get our grand Party of Brave Adventurers and our G-Man back safe and sound like I got Pamela from our man Jev.”

“Pamela is a _cow,_ ” Mumbo sobbed. “Not eight _people._ ”

Ren was surely _not_ offended by Mumbo’s dehumanization of his wonderful, if often ill, mooshroom companion. The cowboy pat Mumbo on the back with a small sigh, unsure what to do, when Joe plopped down next to them and cradled his head in his hands. “Howdy,” He sounded terrible.

“Hi,” Mumbo moaned, twisting his mustache around his finger until it began aching. He sniffed hard and scrubbed his face before falling backwards into the bed, staring at the close ceiling with a heavy pout.

“Mr. Jumbo, tell me why you’re upset.” Joe said.

“Why am I upset?” Mumbo echoed. “ _Why_ am I upset? Did you just ask me why I am upset. All of my friends are missing, that’s why I’m upset!”

“We’re your friends.”

“I-I, wait, no, I, I know that! I’m sorry I just-” Mumbo sat up and threw his arms around Joe in a watery hug. “That’s not what I meant I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I wasn’t trying to sound upset either.” Said Joe. “But I want you to remember we are your friends too. We’re here for you to. And all the Hermits off in the Deep End are our friends, and so is whatever that Demon Grian was is too. We’re all trying for the same thing, and we can’t slow down for a second if we’re going to save our friends. So we need to get to work.”

“Heck yeah! And we need your redstone!” Ren said, eyes lighting up. “Our man Cubby was telling me about some rad plans he had! He’s a redstone genius but we all know you’re a redstone madman.”

Mumbo did feel utterly useless in that moment. He was discombobulated and his stomach was rolling but he did make the strangest, best redstone while half awake and surviving off the last of his baked potatoes. Completely deadpan, Mumbo stood from the bed, wiped his eyes, and lowered himself down the ladder next to the bed. He felt as heavy as a rock as he passed the levels the Hermits were excavating.

Above, Ren and Joe were stepping out of the house to meet with Hypno and Jevin, one whom was setting up observers in the water to trigger traps while the other began removing all signs of life from the island other than the quaint cabin. TFC was showing Stress how he grew his crops and trees underground last season on the first level. Beef and Bdubs were designing a sleeping area for the Hermits, making it pretty so it could be a lovely place to relax with Keralis while xBCrafted worked on expanding the space with his pickaxe and lighting it up. With the help of Etho and Zedaph, Impulse was making small farms on the fourth level. On the lowest level was Cub, lost behind an obsidian wall.

“Aw, heck,” Grunted the man, throwing himself back. From behind the obsidian, redstone popped and cracked, the gentle red glow sputtering before dying out. Mumbo stepped off of the ladder and shook out his sore hands, shuffling closer and quirking an eyebrow.

“Cub?”

“Oh, Mumbo, hey man,” Cub threw over his shoulder, standing up and dusting himself off. “Just making an armoured room. Don’t know much what it would do to against those Watcher folks but… it’s something.”

The (more) tired redstoner stepped closer as he rubbed his face hard, pulling on his eyelids to keep himself all there and try to take apart the contraption. “Tell me about this monstrosity.”

Snorting under his breath, Cub wiggled through a gap between the obsidian and the stone walls, beckoning Mumbo to come closer and see for himself. What Mumbo saw was a large obsidian cube with dispensers set up on the front wall facing the room they had just been in. When Mumbo checked inside, the dispensers were loaded with potions and fire charges. The back wall was littered with bubble-vators and gear stations that would dress the Hermits in fully enchanted gear, including wicked swords. Next to the bubble-vators were chests full of golden carrots, backup (nonenchanted) armour, bows and arrows, and enough positive potions to make a man immortal. On the other side of the obsidian box was a large open space of mined out stone. Cub’s theory was that if any Amendment tried to follow them down here, they wouldn’t be able to fit into the bubble-vators and therefore access the box, so the Hermits would have free range to easy fire on any of the enemy before they had the chance to bring down the obsidian. It was essentially the magic practice wall Cub had built for Scar that had been rearranged to fire by command, not a redstone clock.

“Dude,” Mumbo’s voice cracked and he grinned, looking back to Cub. The other Hermit looked a little flustered at his work being under such scrutiny, but his grin was still alive. Mumbo walked up to Cub with his bounce back in his step. “this is amazing! Those cannons, are they for the Amendments? Where did you get all of this stuff? How _rich_ are you right now?”

“That is not our current issue.” Said Cub, gesturing towards the redstone Mumbo was currently standing on. “This is. I’m trying to wire it up so the second us Hermits go down those bubble-vators these cannons wake up so we can turn them off when we’re not here to prevent problems such as misfiring.”

When approached by a stressed Mumbo, the best thing you can do is present him with a problem that has an easy solution, aka, a simple redstone mechanism.

Because of that, Mumbo and Cub stayed up through the night working before inevitably falling asleep leaning on each other over the final lever that turned off the fatal machine. The night had been a total success and they both very much deserved a full rest, so when the other Hermits found them there, they didn’t even bother moving them.

Unfortunately this resulted in Mumbo and Cub being entirely alone in the most isolated part of the emergency base when Grian appeared, eyes bright red as his form wavered between solid and shadow. In Ex’s defence, it had been a long time since he inhabited a proper body, and he did not know how Xisuma could withstand the intense gravity of the Overworld even while in a mortal body.

Ex could feel Grian’s ties to the things of the Overworld, especially the other people, and felt a tug in the back of his head as Grian tried to force him out. Using Grian’s ties to the Hermits, Ex found the one who would listen to Grian (or Grian’s face) laying underground asleep. The Voidkind had an important message to deliver and while it was unfortunate he had to do it through someone else’s body, that is a step he had to take, so he reached out and shook Mumbo awake. His hand making full contact with another solid thing so flawlessly made Ex shiver and something told him that if Grian could, the builder would be mocking him.

Both of the redstoners awoke at once, saw Grian’s face with big red eyes, and screamed.

In hindsight, Ex should have known it would have been an upsetting sight, but he wasn’t prepared for Cub to punch Grian as hard as he could. He also did not expect that Grian being punched would hurt him, too.

“Cub!” Complained Mumbo. “That’s still Grian’s body! We can’t hurt him.”

“Listen, it’s okay!” Ex said, trying to find his balance as his (Grian’s?) head swam. “My name is Xisuma, I’m your Admin’s… brother-thing-person, and I’m in Grian’s body for reasons that will take way too long to explain please just listen to me.”

“I don’t like this…” Cub scowled.

“Me too, mate, me too.” Mumbo murmured. “This is pants.”

The tug in the back of Ex’s mind was back as poor Grian tried to fight the mind control magic. Did Ex feel terrible? Oh, yes. Did he have to finish what he came for? At that point, also yes. “It’s okay if you don’t trust me but listen up. The Amendments want to give me Grian’s body, which is what you’re seeing now. I don’t want to do it because it honestly feels really weird and is pretty awful, but you need to know that the other Hermits are _alive._ Not for long, but they’re alive. I’m going to try to hold the Watchers off as long as possible so they can escape and you Hermits can run but I’m going to need Grian and you’re going to need to be ready if I give you some help.”

“What?” Cub mused.

“No!” Said Mumbo, as if it was the easiest decision he ever made. “Why should we trust you? Or give you Grian! No!”

Cub covered Mumbo’s mouth his hand. “Keep going.”

“Okay! I’m going to go back to the Deep End and free the Hermits that have been trapped and send them through here to the Overworld. After I do that, I’m going to try and keep the Amendments in the Deep End so Xisuma can find a safe place for you on another world.” Ex explained. The tugging at the back of his head stopped like Grian was listening too. “I’m not as strong as them. You won’t have long. So once I open that portal, you all have to leave.”

“What about Grian?” Asked Mumbo.

Hermits, so bad at making sacrifices.

At that point Ex decided what needed to be said had been and that his next step was certainly getting out of the Overworld before one of the Amendments caught him or the Hermits asked more hard-to-answer questions. The Voidkind clapped his hands and opened a small gate into the Deep End made of thick void magic before stepping through and clapping again for it to seal up behind him. At that, Ex extracted himself from Grian and returned to being a (much more comfortable) shadow.

The Hermit gasped, steadying himself on wobbly legs in the hallway of the Amendments castle. “Never do that again.” He groaned, clutching his head as his eye bruised.

“I don’t have much choice mate.” Said Ex.

“Is everything you said true?” Asked Grian. Ex then noticed the builder looking around for something, probably another weapon. Ex tried to make himself smaller and help up his hands placatingly. Grian just narrowed his eyes as void magic crackled in his palms. “You’re going to try to save everyone?”

“I don’t have much to lose.” Said Ex. “You Hermits are the strangest little creatures I’ve ever seen and if you make Xisuma happy… then that makes me happy. I- just- you must understand that you’re a big piece of this puzzle. The Amendments want you.”

“Why?” Asked Grian. The magic in his hands died.

“Because you’re a challenge.” Ex explained. He looked up and down the hall now that he felt safe to turn his back to Grian, peeking around corners. He saw and heard nothing, which were all good things. “You denied them. Watchers aren’t used to being denied, calling themselves gods and all. And now that you have void magic running through you, you are a real threat. You’re probably the only mortal who can actually kill them. And if they let you go; you can take them out at a later date. If they control you, they can finally access the Overworld uninhibited by things like Admins and air quality.”

“Admins?”

“Admins can ban people,” Ex explained. “like Xisuma banned me. Hence why I had to take your body- sorry about that. Anyways, Admins are basically tiny gods. They can ban anyone from their territory much like Voidkind can kick _other_ Voidkind out of theirs. Watchers invading the Overworld often rely on there being no Admin, a missing Admin, or a new Admin. Like… your Evo situation.”

“Weird.” Grian said distantly. He was shell-shocked. They stood in silence for a moment.

“Why did they take me?” Asked the human, suddenly looking very, very small.

The Voidkind standing before him felt something very similar to what he felt towards Xisuma stab through him. Ex always labeled it as hate, but maybe it was just _hurt_. “Because you’re a challenge, Grian. Just like you told me, you don’t give up. That’s a good quality to have if any.”

“Okay,” Grian said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Okay. If, If I help you, you promise I can save Hermitcraft?”

Ex knew it was a lie before he even said it. “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ye of little faith


	20. Chapter Twenty

“You need to act scared of me.” Ex said.

“I can’t,” Grian replied honestly. “Your name is literally Evil Xisuma. I can’t take you seriously.”

“Oh my goodness we’re doomed.” Ex whined into his hands.

The two were hunched outside of the room Ex was 99% certain the Hermits were being stashed in. Grian agreed with this hunch because he had been stashed in that room the very same multiple times before. They were trying to formulate a game plan for tricking the Amendments, who were very close to actual gods who were old as anything and could probably smell lies. The two were doing their best to be smart about their plan when they heard a general upset the room on the other side of the doors, various Hermits threatening one of the Voidkind at varying degrees of threat.

“Okay,” Said Ex, voice high with worry as he stood and placed a controlling hand on Grian’s neck. “Everything you see in there, let it scare you. If you’re scared of everything else, they’ll think you’re scared of me.”

“I’m already scared.” Whined Grian. “This is a terrible plan.”

The Voidkind pulled open the heavy obsidian door and was very pleased with his schooled features as he dragged Grian in by the back of his neck. Luckily for him, Grian was a good actor, and the human went ragdoll exhausted, limp under Ex’s hand to the point where the Voidkind was quite literally holding him up on his very feet. Even though it had hurt, Ex had to thank Cub for that punch, because the bruise on Grian’s face was angry and dark.

Speker looked up from the Hermits with a fang-filled grin. “Ah! Xisuma! I’m sure you know nothing about the collapsed segment of castle! I would have asked much sooner but the mortals wanted to play a quick game of war.”

Ex snorted and walked further into the room, surveying his surroundings in what he hoped appeared to be nonchalance. This was a room in the lowest part of the floating castle, a dungeon if Ex had ever seen one. It lacked the decorations the Amendments so favoured and was instead a headache of endstone. Thick endstone bricks made up the walls and the pitted, natural version of the stone littered the floor as if they were walking outside. The strip of the room Ex, Grian, and Speker stood in was a perfect square with more than enough space for the three of them, but to the right of the room was a cell with bars of endrods. Inside the singular cell was all of the seven trapped Hermits (thankfully it was all seven of them), the endrods shining unforgiving light onto their wounds and poor condition.

The Hermits had been stripped of their armour and their belongings, leaving them scare clothing in the cold room. Speker had someone’s communicator clutched in their hand and a backpack at their feet, moved away from the bars where Grian noticed claw marks that had not been there before. _Go Tango_ , he thought. Whatever Speker had been doing riled the Hermits up and Iskall looked ready to break the endrods in half to get to Grian as Ex explained the broken castle. “The mask fell off of the human and he attacked me. Whatever you tried to do to his magic didn’t work and he brought down the ceiling.” Ex let Grian drop and prayed the Hermits, all who gasped, would forgive him. “I shut him up. Which, last time I checked, was your part of the deal.”

Grian’s whimper from the floor was very convincing and Iskall bared his teeth like he was something other than a harmless human. “What did you do to him!?”

The shadowy Voidkind really hoped this plan worked as he bared his teeth at Iskall and let out his best bad-guy snarl. “Do you dare address your god in such a barbaric manner?”

“We trusted you!” Cried False from behind the endrod bars.

“Yeah,” Doc hissed; words slurred by his half-broken jaw. “not cool man.”

“Aw, did you?” Ex pouted. “Mistake. You earth-walkers act as if the universe is nothing but friendship and happy days. Welcome to reality. A shame your little Admin can’t protect you from everything.”

The hurt Ex experienced when talking to Grian in the hall a few minutes before came back tenfold when he saw his other half. Xisuma sat in the far back of the cell, silent. He did not move or even address Ex, simply sitting there with his head down and face unreadable. He looked like everything but Xisuma. The other Hermits were still fighting, still angry, still worried about their friends, but Xisuma appeared to be impartial at best. Even Ex’s best stinger about him being a bad Admin did nothing to get a reaction out of the desolate man.

“Hmm, they are quite interesting little things.” Speker said, approaching Grian and crouching down. They picked up his chin with a clawed hand and Ex knew it wasn’t acting when Grian’s pupils dilated and he began to quiver. “So much fun to play with.”

“You let go of him!” Doc snarled, a never-ending hiss of creeper fire burning in him. Being turned into a cyborg revoked most of his creeper capabilities, such as _Explode_ , but he would still dream that he could.

All of the Hermits were either in states of rage or complete upset. Due to Xisuma being so out of it, Cleo found herself in a repeat of before, fighting to keep her consciousness over feeling nothing but insatiable hunger. She had crowded herself in a corner far from the other Hermits as she tried to keep a grip on her sanity and was (mostly) succeeding as her anger towards the Watcher kept her brain firing. Tango’s horns looked to have grown back in a matter of minutes, his fangs suddenly so long they prodded his lips when he shut his mouth to hiss much like his creeper companion. The demon had his claws out and reached through the bars to bat Speker away from Grian but couldn’t reach no matter how much he tried. Iskall was trying to find a way through the tight bars with False even in the presence of the enemies but both were failing much to Speker’s pleasure. Like Cleo and Xisuma, Scar was quiet, clutching a luck crystal with tired hands. He felt no magic in him, no spark like before, and a deep dread had settled in him that after such a large spell he may never cast again.

It was a pitiful sight for Ex. Speker was loving it.

“If you don’t let him go right now, I’ll, I’ll release all of the fire of the Nether on you!” Tango roared, red eyes glowing something fierce. “You’ll burn for all of eternity!”

“Will I?” Asked Speker, dropping Grian back to the ground. Ex tried not to flinch when he heard Grian’s head connect with the very solid floor. Speker waved their hand and their magic grabbed Tango by the neck, holding him on his tippy-toes. “Don’t threaten your _gods_ , little demon.”

“You will never be a god.” Said False.

Speker turned to face Ex and smirked, releasing Tango and stepping over Grian delicately as if they cared. “Perhaps I’ll leave these mortals in your hands, Xisuma. Allow you to tie up some loose ends.” They purred. At that, all the Hermits stepped back from the endrod bars like they were revaluating their situation entirely. Ex did it all for show, but he looked down his nose at the Hermits and smirked. Speker clasped their hands as they finally got the pleasure of watching the Hermits shake with fear. “That’s just what I’ll do then.”

“I appreciate the opportunity.” Ex grinned, dipping into a small bow for the Watcher before him and moving over to Grian.

“I will be in the Grand Hall waiting for you and Tricer. The rest of the Amendments and I are eager to finish with the misbehaving mortals in the Overworld.” Said Speker. Ex expected an uproar from the caged Hermits beside him, but they were well and truly stunned into silence. With that, Speker disappeared in a flurry of thick, purple particles.

Quickly crouching to the human’s side, Ex helped Grian sit up and tenderly checked his head for anymore sore spots after being dropped twice in the span of five minutes. There was a bruise over Grian’s ear but other than a small hiss from Grian when touched, it didn’t seem to be much of an issue. “I’m so sorry about that, are you alright?”

“I hated that.” Grian said. “This is a terrible, terrible plan.”

“I know. Janky at best.” Ex smiled sheepishly.

“Hold the phone,” Doc said, raising the hand that was still working. He shuffled closer to the bars and leaned his metal side into them, the glaring at Ex through the annoying light of the endrods. “What is going on here?”

Grian struggled to his feet as Ex shrunk back with a small frown, Grian moving closer to the bars to stare at his friends with hopeful smile. “We’re going to get you out of here, is what. Ex and I have a great plan and it’s going to be fine.”

“Didn’t you just say it was a terrible plan?” False added.

Scar was staring at Grian like he had hung the stars. “You’re okay.” Murmured the wizard. Grian grinned and Ex watched with nothing but pure fascination as it settled in for the other Hermits that, yes, Grian was okay, standing before them maybe a little beat up and more magical then they remembered, but okay. Scar pulled himself to his feet and walked towards the bars, shaking Grian’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re alright Grian.”

“Yeah, me too.” The builder said as he looked at his friends.

He knew in that moment he would do whatever Ex needed him to do in order to save the Hermits. He hadn’t been able to save the Evolutionists, or even tell them he wasn’t trying to leave them behind but instead stop the Watchers, and all he was able to do was watch as his empire fell and his friends were lost under the Amendment’s hands. The old ways were completely lost, down to the weird textures and funny glitches. There was no more Property Police shenanigans, no more rail track cutting through the world, no more summoning platforms to bring back old friends. All evidence that the Evolutionists had ever existed had been erased and Grian felt himself ache as he thought of the build-off, of area 77, of his old base still standing right where the Hermits left it, abandoned but safe, legacy secure.

The faulty Admin was being given a second chance. Something to right his wrongs. He would be able to save the Hermits and see the Evolutionists once more. As he looked at his friends trapped in that tiny cell he had become so well acquainted with, he knew that’s how it needed to be. They wouldn’t be safe with him, no, not with the glitches having two Admins were causing. He had known they were in trouble once the water in their last world didn’t behave right, or when he had to break the world border with a boat of all things for the latest update, or when no one could sleep in the first few days of their new world. And if Grian was gone, he knew the Hermits would never see a Watcher again. So his mind was made up, and the man was stubborn as he prided himself to be. The Hermits would be abandoned but safe.

Grian was snapped out of his swirling thoughts by the _whoosh_ of a portal. With a clap, Ex had opened another portal for the Hermits. It led directly into the emergency bunker, to the point where Iskall could see Mumbo covering the last of the crooked redstone with more obsidian. The portal wavered like a slit in the Deep End, the space between dimensions split in two open for a brief moment as Ex fought with his powers to hold it open.

The irony was fantastic, thought Grian. For the first time he felt to be out of a cell in a long, long time, the portal home was inside one.

“I already told some of the Hermits on that side. You run; I’ll hold off the Watchers.” Ex said. “Don’t hesitate, and I’m serious. Get out of here.”

The Hermits looked to each other, and then to Xisuma. Retrieved from his catatonic state, Xisuma looked at his brother and Grian and then to the portal. “Alright then,” He said in a small voice, stepping aside and ushering the other Hermits through. Iskall broke into a laugh, charging through to tackle Mumbo, who yelped at the sudden contact. Cleo and False high-fived and ran through next, followed by Tango helping the still-turned-off Doc limp through. Scar and Xisuma stopped and looked at Grian. The Admin sighed. “You’re not coming, are you?”

Scar’s eyes widened and Grian felt something in him shatter. The broken pieces felt heavy in his chest, weighing down his heartbeat and making him sway. “I can’t.” He said, voice breaking like his insides. His eyes filled with tears and the man looked at his feet, knowing he wouldn’t survive Scar’s puppy eyes.

The Admin reached through the endrod bars and shook Grian’s hand. “No hesitating, right?” He said, smile wavering as he gave Grian a firm nod. The light of the endrods showed Grian all the intersecting scar tissue of Xisuma’s face, the darkness under his eyes, the hesitation in his muscles. Then the real Admin stepped back, grabbed Scar by the robe, and tugged him through the portal as the wizard just stared.

With a clap, Grian’s home was gone for a second time.

A heavy sniffle and Grian wiping his face until it throbbed later, the ex-Hermit looked up at Ex with watery eyes and smiled. “Okay then Mr. Void. What do we do now?”

Ex stared at where the portal had been. He felt heavy in his own body for the first time in a long time and turned to Grian with a shrug. “We go fight some Watchers, I guess.”

“Cool,” Grian grunted, hands sparking. “I really need to punch something right now.”


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Pulling the giant obsidian doors of the Grand Hall open, Ex marched in with his hand shoving Grian forwards once more. Grian was back to his acting, swaying and looking too hurt to be able to stay on his feet when he finally collapsed in front of the steps leading to Speker’s throne. His laid out his wings flat and made sure one looked a little crooked. Ex raised an eyebrow at the Amendments and crossed his arms as he gestured towards the human at his feet. “And you’re sure this is the human you go on and on about?”

“Positive,” Speker said, tilting their head. “he’s usually… more brash.”

Lisener bristled, leaning in closer. “Speker is right. How did you hurt him?” They asked, Seer laying their piercing gaze on Ex.

While the Voidkind would have liked to keep that gig up a little longer, he knew when he was beat, and the summoned void fire into his hands with a growl. “You messed with Xisuma territory. That world _is_ Xisuma territory. And you’re going to pay.” He hissed, throwing the fire into the ground and disappearing into the shadows it made.

“This was not part of the plan!” Grian cried as he pushed himself up, beating his wings and taking to the air as he summoned his fire poker staff from before as the floor was swallowed by black and purple fire. Taer screeched and launched into the air after Grian, small wings fluttering at a great speed to catch up with Grian’s flight. The ex-Hermit laughed, flipping in the air to fly on his back and shooting Taer in the face with a fireball much like he did Ex an hour earlier. “But this is!”

Taer fell to the ground with a surprised cry and Grian flipped over again, spiraling towards the stupidly high ceilings rather gracefully to look below where he saw Ex sliding from shadow to shadow, appearing on the throne, at the bottom of the steps, on an arch way in the ceiling across from Grian. Each time he moved from the darkness, Speker would scream a sound that shook the walls and dive for him. Lisener stood calmly among the flames, eyes shut serenely. Grian narrowed his eyes as he watched, noticing Seer’s head tilting slightly to face Ex wherever he appeared. Weird strategy, he thought, standing among fire and watching the real fight happen.

“Ex!” Cried Grian as he dove through an arch and tried to fly to Ex before Speker could reach him. The Amendments were always planning something nefarious. “You need to stop teleporting!”

“It’s not teleporting!” Ex snapped, disappearing into the shadows of the arch. Speker let out a shrill cry and Grian covered his ears as the sound shook through him. Still flying but not for long, Grian smashed into the arch supporting the ceiling with a shout, wrapping his arms around the support beam and pulling himself up to sit on it as he watched Ex reappear on an arch on the other side of the ceiling. “It’s shadow walking!”

“Well stop it!” Grian shouted, hearing his staff clatter on the ground after dropping it in the collision and yelping when Taer grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him to the floor as the human kicked and punched and did his best to fly away. Wings entangled, Grian was slammed onto his back on the floor with a gasp, moaning in pain as the shock rattled through him like Speker’s screams but worse.

“You have caused me a lifetime of pain, Tricer,” Hissed Taer, wrapping their hand around Grian’s neck. “It will give me such pleasure to take yours.”

“I don’t have any fancy dialogue I just know that’s not cool!” Grian squeaked, flailing underneath the crushing weight of the Voidkind hunched over him. Taer’s mouth opened wide, and at this proximity, Grian could see a blackhole in the back of their throat spinning endlessly. Grian kicked and punched, but the brute force of a human was nothing but butterfly wings to the Voidkind. The human could feel his hair flying, being sucked into the blackhole and Grian took a gulp of too-thin Deep End air.

Magic scratched the back of his throat. It began to burn. Then, when Grian let out his last breath as a scream, a fireball shot into the blackhole and Taer collapsed.

Then followed a flurry of feathers, Grian flying away from the void fire and whatever it was that was happening to Taer. The human ducked into the archway from before, searching for Ex among the chaos. He could still hear Speker screeching, their voice warped into something otherworldly (which they were). High chittering filled the room in what Grian recognized as void speak from multiple voices. Far below, the form that was Taer twitched. Then, it began shining. Grian froze in fear before curling up in the corner of the arch, covering himself with his arms and wings as a loud _ka-BOOM_ filled the room. The endrod chandelier fell and shattered into the void fire consuming the floor.

Lisener and Seer stayed completely still, watching and listening to Speker and Ex fight as Grian watched in horror.

The Lord of the Amendments turned to their fallen partner. Their screaming finally stopped. They circled down to the ground and began searching the void fire for their friend. Ex shadow-walked to where Grian was hiding, panting as he turned to the human. “What did you do?” He asked.

“I, I don’t know.” Grian said, eyes wide as he looked at the three remaining Amendments. “They were holding me down I just, I started screaming and then they let go! So I flew away!”

“We’re so dead.” Whispered Ex. He stepped into the shadows to get closer to the Amendments for better aim when Lisener’s eyes finally opened.

“ _There._ ”

Seer’s eyes shut as their hands entered the shadows too. Their clawed fingers reached into the shadows and pulled Ex out, even though the Voidkind had been no where near them. The feeling of being forcibly removed from the shadows was alien and made Ex gasp, collapsing at the feet of the Amendments. Speker grabbed Ex’s wing and threw him across the room. Ex shut his eyes and tried to enter the shadows as he hit the wall, but Seer grabbed him once more and threw him into the floor in front of the burning throne again.

Speker looked down at Ex and snarled as the smaller Voidkind tried to stand up. The Lord spread their wings and held up their hands like the statues of their towers, bright and angry magic in the place of the torches as something a lot like anguish burned in their eyes. Lisener and Seer descended the stairs and crowded around Ex with their claws drawn and teeth bared. Speker only stepped back, magic still crackling in their palms, watching as Ex hissed at the Amendments descending on him. Grian watched in pure horror from the ceiling, the floor being devoured by fire that sucked all the light from the room, the warring Voidkind, and his friend (Grian wasn’t sure if he would call Ex a friend if he wasn’t being tortured in front of him but that was something to explore another time) being tossed around by the Amendments like he was nothing but a toy.

Eyes now open, Lisener reached out and grabbed Ex by the throat. The Voidkind struggled and tried to fly away or find a shadow to slip into, but suddenly Ex went ridged. Seer’s hands were held up, even though their eyes were shut, and Ex was sure that is what was stopping him from escape. A high sound of pain came from him as Lisener let their claws sink in to the last of the matter that made up his body.

In the Overworld, Xisuma gasped and stumbled forwards. Keralis caught him, heaving the Admin up as the portal he had made to the new world behind him began to close. “Swishwammy?” Keralis asked as the Hermits shuffled nervously.

“You will regret ever betraying the Amendments.” Speker said, voice wavering with emotion Ex didn’t know they were capable of. “You will suffer greatly for your crimes.”

“Hit me,” Ex grunted, eyes narrowed. There was a hitch in Speker’s breath only Lisener could hear and at that, they plunged their claws into Ex’s chest. Ex took a sharp breath as his eyes went wide, jaw slack as his teeth pulled from the matter of his face. Lisener slid their claws out of Ex and sent purple droplets of something akin to Voidkind blood flying. The Voidkind made a choking sound and started to shake as Lisener stepped back. Seer’s eyes finally opened again and Ex felt himself go lax, worsening his wounds as his very liquid body tried to melt on him. In a literal flash, Lisener and Seer stepped back so Speker could hurl the magic growing in their hands right into Ex’s chest and send him flying.

The shadowy Voidkind skidded across the floor and went still about thirty feet away, his body extinguishing the fire he rolled through.

“No!” Grian gasped, diving from the ceiling and flying to Ex’s side. He landed next to shadow, but whenever he tried to touch the Voidkind his inky hands passed right through. “No no no no Ex Ex you have to get up we’re saving Hermitcraft remember? Remember? Remember Xisuma Ex we have to save them you need to get up get up come on please Ex I’m begging you _please_.”

“ _You._ ” Hissed Speker, walking towards Grian and his fallen friend.

“Get back!” Grian shouted, standing up and covering the Voidkind with his body, wings spread out wide. “Don’t, don’t touch him!”

“Oh little Tricer.” Speker growled. Grian whimpered as he could no longer move, stuck in that position as Speker loomed closer and filled Grian’s field of vision. “I will make this _hurt_.”

\----------

“Xisuma you’re bleeding!” Gasped Beef as Keralis and Bdubs sat Xisuma down. The Admin had a darkening patch on the front of his shirt as he gasped and tilted his head back into the wall. The Hermits, all of whom had prepared to leave a moment before and were now watching their portal to freedom close, gathered around their wounded Admin.

“Oh, oh goodness me…” Xisuma groaned, screwing his eyes shut and placing a hand over his aching chest. “Ex, it’s Ex.”

“What happens if Ex dies?” Tango asked Impulse quietly.

The other redstoner shook his head. “Don’t want to think about that.”

The druid of the group held out her hands over Xisuma’s chest, frowning as her Admin squirmed. Stress somberly reached up and took off her flower crown, placing it Xisuma’s chest. The whispers among the other Hermits fell as the flowers on Stress’ crown withered and died, their petals falling onto X’s shirt. The Admin winced, glassy eyes passing over his friend’s face as he tried for a smile. Stress just titled her head and laughed a little through the tears building in her eyes. “Oh, X.”

“Joe,” Murmured Xisuma, and the no-longer-temporary Admin stepped forwards. Xisuma sighed, but it led into a wheeze. “My helmet is next to the end portal on the other side. If, if you can find it, it has _all_ the code you’ll need.”

“Xisuma no.” Joe said. “I do not fear death but I do fear yours. We won’t leave you behind.”

The Admin’s head lolled and he shut his eyes with a grunt. “I don’t think I have much choice in the matter.” He wheezed. “Ex has always been a reckless idiot.”

“Reckless idiot…” Scar murmured, looking over to Cleo where the girl was swaying on her feet, looking greener than usual. His eyes widened and he dug through his pockets. The Amendments may have stripped them of their things but Scar had the small crystals tucked in the pockets that lined the inside of his cloak. The wizard rushed through the crowd, digging through his pocket and pulling out the red crystal.

Laying it in the centre of Stress’ flower crown, Scar hummed softly, the volume steadily rising as the buds of Stress’ crown became greener and began to perk up. As the buds split and the flowers bloomed Xisuma gasped, the darkness staining his chest retreating. The Hermits watched in fascinated horror as the wounds closed, Cub laughing loudly as he shook Scar’s shoulders. The wizard beamed and watched the crystal do its work. Xisuma pushed himself up to sit higher, the crown sliding into his lap with the crystal. Scar tucked the crystal back into his pocket and Stress put her crown back on, helping Xisuma up.

The Admin staggered to his feet and the crowd of Hermits rippled. Xisuma looked to where Mumbo and Iskall were leaning on each other, both somber with their eyes glued to the ground as if in mourning. If Ex was hurt, Grian was hurt. A fellow Hermit was missing and in danger. There was no way Xisuma would be able to hop to another world and forgive himself for losing Grian without a fight.

“All on board to fight a group of immortal entities?” Xisuma asked once he had cleared his throat, raising his hand.

The Hermits looked at each other with uncertainty, but it took a blink of the eye for their hands to be held high in the air. Xisuma’s heart soared, but maybe that was just the Overworld air affecting his brain after such a serious wound. Looking at what the Mooshroom island had become in his absence, Xisuma felt positive that they just had to be okay. Hermits were stubborn and brave and reckless and smart. They could take out a few Watchers.

The _woosh_ of a portal opening flooded from behind the Admin. Xisuma’s eyes widened, realizing that Scar healing him probably healed Ex. Turning to greet his brother, the Hermits gasped at the sight of Grian with a black eye, claw marks across both sides of his jaw, and golden wings missing feathers. His hands were stained black and the Hermits could see it steadily creeping up his neck. He still wore the Amendment’s cloak but at least the Hermits could take comfort in the fact that the man was no longer wearing that stupid mask.

Tears swelled in the builder’s eyes as Mumbo tried to step forwards but Xisuma stopped him. “I’m so sorry.” Grian gasped. “I tried. I tried and I failed you and I don’t want to do this but I, I’m not strong enough I’m so sorry.”

Appearing behind him, giant hands on Grian’s shoulders, was Speker. “Your little friend took something of mine, and I am going to take everything of yours.” They hissed. Lisener and Seer appeared beside them, wings outstretched and blocking the Hermit’s escape.

At that, Speker disappeared and Grian’s eyes began to glow yellow.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early today for posting late tomorrow
> 
> also, rest in pieces :/

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Epic Watcher Smack Down!” Declared Tango, unsheathing his golden sword and lunging for Seer.

“Oh my goodness.” Impulse squeaked, quickly unsheathing his sword and jumping in to help his friend.

At that point, the tight group of Hermits exploded and what had become of Grian, now Tricer, took to the air with an inhuman screech.

“What’s our game plan here?” Asked TFC as he backed away from the imposing monsters.

“Uuh,” Hypno offered. “Kill them!”

Team ZIT were laying it on Seer. The Amendment was unfortunately fast and great at predicting their strikes, so no matter how much they pushed the Voidkind back, they never truly seemed to land a blow. “This is so unproductive!” Cried Zed, slashing at Seer’s wings and letting out a startled cry when the Amendment batted him away with said appendage and knocked him over. The human grunted as he stood up and ran right back into action. “I love it!”

Even with one arm and a whole lot of heavy machinery on one side, Doc refused to back down from the fight. He ran up to Lisener, new trident in hand, and plunged it into the flowing matter that trailed behind them that Doc _really_ wanted to know if it was part of the cape or part of Lisener’s body. Based on the screech, it was part of their body. Lisener threw Doc aside with a hiss, the man tripping over himself as his broken side weighed him down. A hand caught him before he fell over however, Beef righting his friend, shooting him a grin, and charging at the Amendment with a heavy axe.

“We can’t hurt Grian!” Mumbo shouted over Tricer’s roars as he dodged arrows and crossbow bolts alike high in the air. Mumbo waved down Jevin who had been doing the shooting and stole Cub’s crossbow. “That thing is still Grian! If we kill it, we kill him!” The redstoner said. Tricer opened their mouth and a roil of purple flame erupted from them, scorching the ground and creating a ring of fire around the Mooshroom island. Yes, the fire burned _in_ the water. Joe had never been more terrified or inspired in his _life._ Mumbo looked around for something they could do and his eye’s widened as they landed on Iskall’s untouched slime shop.

xBCrafted put a sword in TFC’s hands and pulled out a bow, grunting as he took careful aim. “The sooner these things are dead the sooner I’m going back to my cave.” TFC blinked at the younger man and smirked, flicking down the visor of his helmet.

“I like your talk, kid.”

With the Hermits tangled in battle with the Amendments and the Amendments therefore tangled with the Hermits, Xisuma was able to slip through the portal into the Deep End quite easily. The Grand Hall was still a mess, void fire licking at the Admin harmlessly as it crackled and cried. The man looked through the flames for his fallen brother, heart rate slowly but steadily increasing as he searched for his other half. “Ex?!” He cried into the giant room, looking up into the ceiling in hopes of finding his brother relaxing on an arch of the domed ceiling. There was a high sound to the right of Xisuma, so that’s where the Admin ran.

“Hellooo!” False laughed, waving at Seer before swinging her sword at them. The Amendment slid out of the way with perfected ease right onto Ren’s sword, making the man laugh victoriously.

“Oh yeah baby! Voidkind slayer extraordinaire Rendog! Ah ladies, get in line!” With a screech, Seer turned. The sword was wrenched from Ren’s hands and stuck from their back like a porcupine quill. Ren’s face fell as the Voidkind created a shadow over where he was standing. “Oh mama.”

“Hey ugly!” Shouted Tango, catching Seer’s attention. Under the glare of their bright eyes, Tango blew the immortal a raspberry as Impulse embedded three spectral arrows into their side. The smallest of the remaining Amendments snarled and flew themself towards the water where the Hermits couldn’t follow, taking a blow from Zed and False each as they ran past and Impulse ducked to avoid being steamrolled.

About fifty feet away from the Nether portal where that fight was occurring, Bdubs was reliving the good ol’ times alongside the NHO. The Amendments tower loomed over them as Lisener rose into the air, eyes shut, peacefully listen to the battles far away. With the _shink_ of Doc’s cybernetics, however, they lunged. Luckily this was stopped by a boost from Keralis, helping Etho jump onto the back of the Amendment and pull them down to the ground by their wing. Both the Voidkind and the human yelled as they crashed, rolling across the ugly cobble of Joe’s streets.

“Whoo-hoo!” Laughed Beef, grabbing Etho by the ankle and yanking the Ice Queen away from Lisener as they tried to swipe at him. Doc lifted his trident and slammed it down on Lisener’s wing, pinning it to the cobble as the Amendment screeched. Beef punched the air with a, “hells yeah!”

Unfortunately, the celebration didn’t last long. With a heady snarl and the flick of their wing, Lisener was free again, and their hypnotic eyes were open this time. They lunged for the first person that moved, being Keralis, and slashed across his chest.

“How dare you!” Bdubs roared, bringing down his axe on the Amendment with all his might.

Cleo was sprinting towards Head Game with Scar in search for a _Statues_ book. Scar may have had his crystals, but the Amendments made sure to strip him of all of his spell books and went so far to wash the smudged ink off of his arm in case his dyslexic brain could somehow read the ruined writing. Tricer screamed behind them and the ground shook, but Cleo just hopped up the hillside until she made it to the chests. “Start digging!” She panted.

“How do you feel about donating some slime?” Mumbo asked Iskall, already running towards his shop.

“What are you thinking!?” Cried Iskall, turning to Joe and Cub with big eyes as he white-knuckled his sword. Above them, Tricer beat their broken wings and dove for Mumbo. “He’s crazy in this world, right? He’s completely lost it.”

The mustached redstoner narrowly avoided a blast of void fire as he ran towards Iskall’s shop. He leaped into the water and waded towards the slime oozing from the walls, beginning to stuff as much of it into his pockets as he could. Mumbo would _seriously_ have to wash his suit after this. “Cub, have any redstone left on you!?”

Flower crown in hand, Stress ran over to Keralis. After healing the thankfully shallow wounds on his chest, the builder watched with wider eyes than usual as Stress’ eyes burned green and she turned to Lisener. “Leave my friends _alone!_ ” She commanded, purplish vines growing from the unfertile earth of the Mooshroom island and shooting towards Lisener.

“Remind me never to get on Stress’ bad side,” Jevin said to Hypno as the two archers began firing at Lisener and Seer with their backs pressed together to avoid any sneak attacks.

“Don’t ever get on Stress’ bad side.” Hypno grunted, firing an arrow of harming into Seer’s eye.

Jevin snorted and shot an arrow of fire protection to Cleo and Scar as the wizards looked at the burning ground blocking them from the fight. “Thanks bud.”

Crouched at their feet was Joe, desperately dipping their arrows in his extra potent potions. He searched the battlefield, trying to do a headcount amongst the chaos, realizing they were missing one Xisuma.

\----------

“Ex!” Cried the Admin, running through the fire and collapsing on his knees next to his brother. Himself. His friend. Even in times of peril Xisuma didn’t know how to navigate their relationship.

The Voidkind didn’t move. His red eyes were barely open, staring at Xisuma blankly as the Admin choked on his words. All he could do was cup his brother’s face and let the black matter of his being leech into his hands. “Oh, Ex…” Xisuma whimpered. The larger of the pair shut his eyes fully with a wheezing sigh.

\----------

“Sail sail sail!” Cried Zed, bow in hand as False rowed them into the largest lake of the cowmercial district. Plain arrows in hand, Zed tried to pin Seer’s head to the nearest shop. “Head squish head squish!”

“Take that Amendment demon!” Impulse cried, firing two more arrows of his own into Seer.

“Hey!” Tango cried from where he was trying to climb onto the shop and jump onto Seer in very Etho-like fashion. “Being a demon is awesome!”

“Sorry dude!” Impulse laughed. False giggled as she turned the boat in the rather smooth water to give Zed the perfect shot before a very sudden wave that was far to big to appear naturally in such a small lake rocked the boat violently.

“Insolent mortals!” Seer snarled, bright eyes disrupting anything they landed on in terms of tsunamis and earthquakes rumbling under their gaze. Zed and False cried out as their boat capsized and Impulse yelped as Seer’s piercing gaze left a hole in his chest plate.

“That is some powerful magic!” Impulse complained, running to duck behind the nearest wall. The eye Hypno had shot healed over with the strange light as Seer fixed their gaze on hapless Tango, who let out a startled squeak. As the ground before him began burning up, Tango laughed, because fire did nothing to him! Then, the heat of the gaze hit him square in the chest and Tango fainted, falling into the water below.

Thick, purple vines wrapped around their body did nothing to stop Lisener’s powers. They burst through the vines like they were nothing and took to the air, flying high above the mortals trying to fire at them. The battlefield hurt their eyes to look at, so Lisener shut them and just listened.

Among the clang of swords, shouts of the Hermits, and roars of Tricer, Lisener heard the _chk chk chk_ of Doc’s cybernetics waving uselessly without their proper power source. Lisener grinned and dove down, grabbing Doc’s arm and yanking as hard as they could, throwing the creeper across the battlefield.

“Doc!” Screeched Bdubs, running towards where the creeper had landed, metal arm torn clean off. “Oh you stupid, are you okay?”

“Just fine,” The man moaned, pushing himself up. “it just helped me get rid of some dead weight. Let’s go.”

Turning back to the heat of the fight, Doc and Bdubs bore witness to Lisener snapping their teeth as Etho and pinning Beef to the ground with one giant hand. Keralis bravely began hacking at their back until Lisener bristled and a powerful radial blast threw back all the Hermits around them much like Speker had Ex. The five sat up with equally distressed groans, Etho’s morphing into a scream as Lisener lunged for him.

After rubbing the arrow of fire protection on their legs, Scar and Cleo leaped through the flames around Head Game and ran towards the fight with a _Statues_ book in hand. They made a beeline for Iskall’s slime shop where the three redstoners were holed up, cowering inside as Tricer surrounded the building in dark void flame. The terrifying Grian landed on the bridge with heavy feet, cracking the stone. Grian’s hauntingly happy voice rang out. “Mumby! Why are you hiding from your friend?”

Screeching to a stop behind Tricer, Scar grabbed Cleo’s hand and began flipping through the book. Sadly, the Amendment had seen them and turned around to hiss, blazing eyes narrowed as he spread his crooked wings. They made to lunge forwards, but suddenly their feet were covered in slime, which was then buried in soulsand. The Amendment was well and truly trapped, snarling as they tried to free their feet from the goop.

Inside Iskall’s shop stood Mumbo holding an impromptu cannon. Using the slime in Iskall’s shop and whatever mess Cub had in his bag (a decent amount of redstone and leftover soulsand from the bubble-vators), the three redstoners had pressed their braincells together to make the short-distance cannon able to fire two different substances interchangeably.

“A challenge!” Laughed Tricer, baring their teeth at Scar and Cleo as they lifted their crooked wings. With the sound of breaking bones, the hurt appendages began knitting themselves back together. Only when they were fully healed and extended did the Hermits realize how _big_ Grian’s wings were. With three powerful flaps, Tricer’s feet were freed and they screeched out their victory, the wind made by their wings pushing the watching Hermits back.

“Stress! Get Tango!” xBCrafted shouted through the chaos, pointing to where the demon hit the water.

Hypno let loose an arrow of water breathing, but it was all a big guess if it actually hit the demon. Stress and Jevin ran through the destroyed district to get to Tango before he drowned himself in the lake. TFC was on the other side of the shore heaving False and her incredibly heavy armour out of the water while Zed shook himself off and ran to support Impulse, who stood alone against Seer.

\----------

“You’re okay.” Ex whispered, a large clawed hand slowly coming to rest on Xisuma’s chest. It ached and made it hard for Xisuma to breathe but he didn’t dare push his brother away.

“Yeah, yeah, I am.” Sniffled the Admin, laying Ex back down when the Voidkind hissed in pain. “Ex, I… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Ex coughed and whimpered, body beginning to shake. The stars dappled along his form slowly began to burn brighter and Xisuma’s eyes widened in horror as his other half looked at him with lidded eyes. “I don’t hate you anymore. I really, _goodness me_ , I really hope you get what you wanted.”

The high sound Ex made brought tears to Xisuma’s eyes as he watched helplessly. The Admin closed his eyes, and even with the portal open right behind him and the sound of the Hermits fighting for their lives shining through, no Admin magic sparked at his fingertips. They were in a permadeath zone and the part of him Xisuma had come to love and appreciate after so many years of avoidance was going to die like his younger self always wanted.

“I will Ex, I will.” The Admin said, sniffling and hurriedly wiping away his tears. What he was truly doing was wiping the shadow matter back onto his face, the strange feeling of his body returning to what it should have been all along rattling through him. “You’ll be remembered as a hero, I promise.”

\----------

The self-proclaimed ladies’ man of the Hermits had trained for maybe a week with a bow for Demise before becoming the Grim Reaper. He had always been better with swords than most long-distance weapons and when he was fighting Seer it was painfully obvious. Ren moved into Tango’s place above the shop, begging Impulse to keep distracted with his eyes.

“Yoo-hoo!” Impulse shouted, waving his arms and planting three arrows into Seer’s side in quick succession _thunk thunk thunk_. The Amendment swiveled and snarled, rearing up to come down on Impulse and now Zed as Ren jumping on their back and plunging his backup sword in their back right to the hilt next to the one he had lost in the beginning of the fight.

All, of course, with the war cry of “Oh yeah baby!”

Seer let out a shrill screech, Zed and Impulse forced to take cover as their eyes shone like headlights and fire erupted whenever they looked. The Voidkind reached onto their back and pulled Ren off by his shirt, throwing the human away with a snarl before diving towards where they last saw Zed duck.

“Oh no!” Stress cried, lifting another vine from the earth. It caught Ren, barely, and the man groaned at impact, but it was better than the hard earth. The druid then jumped into the lake with a vine holding her ankle. The second her arms were securely around Tango’s chest, she was pulled out, and xBCrafted helped her right herself and try to wake up Tango. Stress cried out in pain as Seer’s fire burned through her vines.

Across the shopping district, Lisener had Etho trapped in their hand and was steadily crushing him. The man grunted as he tried to free himself, unable to stab his way out with no sword.

“Put that man down!” Beef cried, running forwards and slashing at Lisener recklessly as Etho gasped out. Lisener twisted out of the way and smacked Beef away with their free hand, screeching as Doc implanting a trident in their back. They dropped Etho to the ground and the man hissed, coughing as he struggled to take in another breath.

As Lisener rushed Doc, Keralis and Bdubs slashed swords across their sides, but Lisener turned and smacked Bdubs across the battlefield. Doc hissed as the Voidkind came nearer and nearer, and with half of a functioning body and a whole lot of rage the creeper jumped at them, gnashing his teeth and extending his claws.

Having helped False safely out of the water, TFC directed the fighter to where Bdubs had fallen. The old man ran over and crouched next to his friend, wincing as he noticed Bdubs’ crooked arm and bruised shoulder. “Got one to match the cyborg now,” He grinned, making Bdubs laugh nervously as TFC tried to drag him somewhere he would be mostly safe. False sat with them and checked out the wound to find out the severity, making Bdubs hiss and whimper. And explosion sounded above them.

“Let’s play a game of tag!” Tricer screeched, voice echoing but still Grian’s. “I’m it!”

“No!” Said Hypno.

The Amendment had his target. Tricer dived, wings folded tight to his body, and picked Hypno up by his shoulders. The Hermit yelled in surprise, gasping when Tricer dropped him into the lake from a great distance. Tricer circled and screeched, laying down more void fire and surrounding the lake with it. They dove down onto the bridge connecting Iskall’s slime shop to land, letting the stone crumble and break underneath them.

Holding out her hand, Cleo desperately tried to cast _Still_ on Tricer. The Amendment was too fast and two powerful. Even with Joe at her back holding her upright as the force of the spell tried to push her back and Scar’s hand on her arm to feed her with more power, Tricer was flying in figure eights taunting them.

Until, Tricer dove again, grabbing at Scar’s cloak with their claws and dragging him into the air. The man shouted and tried to free himself as the ridiculously strong fabric held on tight. “Iskall, Iskall load the cannon!” Mumbo gasped, quickly shifting the dispenser and adjusting the redstone. As Tricer dropped Scar, Mumbo fired a patch of slime to where the wizard was heading, sending him bouncing back into the air safely with a relieved cry.

At that, Tricer snarled. They landed on top Iskall’s shop where the Hermits couldn’t escape and couldn’t hit him, tearing through the concrete with their hands to reach in and grab the nearest Hermit.

Joe ran to Scar with his bag of potions, shouting as he jumped over a new patch of fire courtesy of Seer. As he checked the wizard for injuries, a deep dread settled in Joe that the two were now encircled by rising fire and he had no more fire protection potions to get them out.

With Stress twitching in pain at his side and Tango not waking up under his hands, Jevin was beginning to panic as he looked to xBCrafted for help. His slime hands were melting with the stress and getting everywhere, only worsening when Zed crouched with the small group and tried to shake Tango awake with a desperate cry of “I just got you back you stupid demon wake up!”

Since Etho was struggling to breath, Keralis decided he was out for the count. The wide-eyed man summoned TFC to take Etho away to wherever he and False were keeping Bdubs before running back into the battle. Doc would stab his claws into Lisener and bite, then swing to another part of their body and do the same before Lisener could grab him and throw him off.

The Amendment screeched, flapping their wings and taking to the air. Beef tried to slice at them as they took off, watching as Lisener finally got a hold of Doc and threw him away once more, the creeper hitting a small hill a way away and not getting up. When Lisener landed, they blocked Beef and Keralis’ swings, a rattle coming from them as they opened their mouth and lunged, trapping Keralis under their left hand and Beef under their right.

Cleo threw Impulse a potion of healing as the fighter tried to push Seer back each time they snapped at him. She gasped and covered her mouth as it landed next to Impulse instead of on him, some of the droplets landing on Seer.

Seeming to shake themselves off, Seer let out a sound akin to purring and lunged forwards, pinning Impulse into the floor of the Nether portal and hissing loudly as they pressed into him with all of their might. Impulse began gasping for air as xBcrafted jumped up and ran to help Cleo lay blows on Seer’s back, but one glance over their shoulder set the ground around the two on fire, trapping them in a wreath of flame so they could only watch as Seer crushed their friend.

\----------

Xisuma looked through the portal with horror in his eyes, seeing his friends either hurt, or unmoving, or trapped. The tears that had been steadily welling escaped and poured down the Admin’s face as he looked between his dying brother and his ailing friends. “I don’t know what to do.” He sobbed, gathering Ex up in his arms as the Voidkind’s stars shone brighter and brighter. Over Ex’s head, Xisuma watched as his friends were forced to surrender to the Amendments. They had lost. They had lost everything.

“X,” Groaned Ex. Xisuma tore his eyes away from the painful scene and looked at his other half. Ex weakly gestured to the strange strings attaching the two where Xisuma had held Ex close.

“Do you want to do this?” Xisuma asked in a small voice.

“No,” Laughed Ex, the stars around his eyes beginning to flare. “Do you?”

“No.” Snorted Xisuma, touching his forehead to his other half’s and shutting his eyes. “Let’s do this thing.”


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Before there was Ex, there was Xisuma. Before there was Xisuma, there was void.

It was an awfully comforting feeling to be so close to that again as Xisuma collected up the void and shadow that made his other half into him. The dark matter that had been reaching for him every day for the entirety of their trip knew exactly what to do, latching on and building upon itself. The next time the Admin opened his eyes and world was much brighter, the world all the more vibrant, and Ex no longer laid in his arms.

Xisuma tested his wings. They sat high on his shoulders like they’re meant to instead of the centre of his back as before. They were longer and stretched far as Xisuma stood up. The Admin was dizzy for a moment, slowly realizing how far the ground was from him. When he looked at his hands, the blackened claws were twice as big as before. Xisuma grinned as he felt the sweet allure of void magic coursing through him again. What should have been impossible worked. Xisuma a true Voidkind again, and he never felt more grateful as he flew through the portal like a bat out of hell.

Closest to him was Seer, so Xisuma twisted in the air and tackled the Amendment off of Impulse, extinguishing the fire around them as they rolled through it. Cleo and xBCrafted ran to Impulse’s aid as Xisuma pinned Seer to the ground, their magic useless against his endless being. “You’ve trespassed onto Xisuma territory,” Snarled the Admin, red eyes flashing white for a split second as he held up his clawed hand and the world seemed to lean towards him for a moment. “And I will make sure you regret it.”

Bringing down his hand on Seer, Xisuma used the might of his Admin magic to bring down the forces of the Overworld on the Amendments, aka a lightning storm. As rain began to fell, the Amendments screeched, not knowing where to go. Xisuma expected it to hurt him too, but after letting it rain only so much in Hermitcraft for so long he must have built up an immunity to the water’s effects. Unfortunately for the Amendments, that was none the same.

As Xisuma leaped off of them, Seer writhed in the dirt pitifully. The void fire around them died out the second the rain touched the flames and Xisuma smirked, picking up the other Voidkind and throwing them into the lake. Seer screeched and disappeared into the water.

“Go Ex!” Cleo laughed, clapping as she jumped up and down.

The Admin flew over the lake and dove towards where Lisener was. They too were struggling not to let the rain affect them, holding down Keralis and Beef even as the rain flooded like acid on their back. Xisuma barrelled into their side and shoved Lisener off of his Hermits and into the mycelium. He leaped on top of Lisener and slashed across their eyes with a snarl, shoving them into the lake as well. He turned to look at his friends and crouched, gingerly helping Keralis and Beef stand.

“Woah.” Beef murmured.

“Swishwammy?” Asked Keralis, and Xisuma grinned.

“One and only.” He said, because he finally could.

“Grian stop!” Cried Iskall from within his shop. Xisuma shot up and realized that in Grian’s body, Speker was unaffected by the rain. Because of this, Tricer was still going wild, and now they had Mumbo on the roof of Iskall’s slime shop with him, snarling in the redstoners face.

“Gri, c’mon mate! Snap out of it!” Mumbo begged, eyes wide with fear as the rain curled his hair into his face and Tricer only stalked closer. His golden eyes bored into Mumbo as his wings spread out, making Tricer’s form look three times as big as they got to their feet so they could place a foot on Mumbo’s chest and lean down.

“There is no Trickster here.” Growled the Amendment, lifting a clawed hand as Xisuma flew to the shop roof and tackled Tricer.

Mumbo laid flat for a moment, just to catch his breath, before sitting up and watching in horror as Tricer tried to fly away from Xisuma with a screech and the two tumbled off the building into the lake. Mumbo scrambled to the edge of the building to look for them only to be pushed back by the force of the two monsters flying up from the water in a strange tangle of claws and wings. They broke apart in the sky, circling each other, magic rippling on their hands as thunder clapped and lightning sparked around them.

The Hermits below could only watch in horror from the broken battlefield as their Admin and Trickster warred off in these new forms.

Fire no longer burning, Stress was able to sit up. In the soil she felt the warm sting of a healing potion and summoned flowers to grow there. She ran over, picked the flowers from where Joe had spilled the potion, and ran back to Tango to shove the deep red petals into the demon’s mouth.

Hunched over Ren’s beaten body was Scar, the wizard shuffling through his torn pockets for his healing crystal. Finding nothing, Scar felt himself begin to break out into tears as he tried to shake Ren awake, checking his pulse and slapping off his stupid sunglasses. The human didn’t move.

With his arm in a makeshift sling, Bdubs lead TFC and False to where Doc had been thrown. The creeper was unresponsive, exposed cybernetics sparking in the rain as his head lolled. Bdubs hugged Doc tightly, pulling away only to shake him in a futile attempt to wake him up.

Etho and Impulse were able to breath again, even if their bruises were worse for wear. Everyone was still shell-shocked however, because no knew if dying by an Amendment meant no respawn. From the look of those worse injured, it did.

The distraught Hermits looked to the sky and could only pray Xisuma won in time as they gathered together with the injured to shield them in case any nasty surprises wanted to make themselves known.

“Grian!” Shouted the Admin, narrowly dodging a fiery blast over his head. “I know you’re in there!”

“The Trickster is gone, Xisuma Void!” Laughed Tricer, golden eyes narrowed. “You’re too late! It’s no matter if you saved your poor other half, your precious Hermits are still dead!”

Red eyes wide, Xisuma looked down at the battlefield. He spotted the bodies of his friends, some still unmoving. When he looked back to Tricer, the Amendment smirked and released the heavy lightning that had been building on their fingers.

The Admin let out a sharp cry and plummeted, the crackle of electricity shaking over his chest and trying to bring him down. He crashed into the Mooshroom island, making a small crater, and squeezed his eyes shut to take in a deep breath as his giant nebulous body rippled. Xisuma had to admit, he missed being so fluid. It made falling into craters so much more comfortable.

Tricer landed on the roof of the slime shop once more. Mumbo yelped and backed up to the statue, quivering as his now otherworldly friend walked closer and closer to him in a slow taunt.

“Mr. Mumbo Jumbo,” Tricer smiled, human teeth gone fanged. “I’m sure you regret so many things. A true shame you’ll never have the chance to forgive yourself for bringing that disaster of a human into your peaceful little world.”

“The only thing I regret is not learning how to use a sword.” Said Mumbo, trapped with no where to go as the slime leeching from the statue began sticking to him and holding him in place. Tricer leaned down, inches from Mumbo’s face, and smirked as they held a claw to the human’s jaw. Mumbo saw nothing in the endless golden eyes Tricer was sporting, but he was sure Tricer saw all of his fear in his. It was then Tricer seemed to make a decision, moving their claws lower and dragging them across Mumbo’s throat with a quiet _shhck_.

Stepping back from the mortally wounded Hermit, Tricer smirked at their work. That’s when they saw Iskall pulling himself onto the roof with a boost from Cub. The inventor’s eyes widened and he let out a strangled gasp, rushing towards his friend and grabbing onto Mumbo. He turned to Tricer, heaving with rage and upset. “You… you _monster_! He was your _friend_!”

Tricer snorted, swaying gently on their feet as their head lolled for only a moment. They steadied himself with a small growl and shook their head, moving towards Iskall as the man covered Mumbo’s wound with his hand in a futile attempt to staunch the bleeding. The inventor pressed harder and harder as the sticky liquid steadily leaked between his fingers and he felt the burn of tears, gently laying Mumbo down as his fellow redstoner gaped at him with glassy eyes. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” Iskall gasped, throat tied in knots, not even sure if Mumbo could hear him.

Giggling, Tricer flicked the blood off of their claws. “No. He isn’t.” They purred, stepping closer to Iskall.

Xisuma extricated himself from his crater and tackled the monster in Grian’s body. Pinning Tricer to the roof of the slime shop, Xisuma looked over his shoulder at Mumbo as his heart raced before turning back to Tricer. “Grian, please, I know you’re in there. I know that they didn’t break you please Grian please I’m begging you.”

The Amendment underneath him struggled, trying to free themself as they strained and screeched. Slowly, the screeching turned into pants, and Grian’s face looked up at Xisuma with nothing but fear written with those golden eyes. Xisuma lit up, cupping Grian’s face as he saw the human fighting for control. Then, the scared expression morphed into a smirk, and Tricer dug their teeth into Xisuma’s hand. The Admin hissed in pain and snapped his hand away, falling over himself as Tricer shoved him away and flew towards the sky, giggling.

“Did you really believe that?” They sang, flying in perfect circles over the slime shop like a vulture waiting for one of the Hermits to slip up and become easy pickings. They started laughing when they saw Xisuma’s face. “Oh, no! Little Xisuma Void, trying so hard to be a good Admin before being tricked by something so stupid! I promise I would make you _hurt_ for what you did, didn’t I?!”

While Xisuma would have loved to shoot them out the sky, the Admin knew injuring Tricer could prove fatal to Grian, if he was still in there. The Admin instead shuffled closer to Iskall and Mumbo, eyes wide as he looked at the weak form that was Mumbo Jumbo bleeding out on the roof of the slime shop. Iskall looked at Xisuma with big, scared eyes like he was confused over how to feel about Xisuma’s new look. He held Mumbo a little closer and his fellow redstoner gurgled.

“A healer!” Xisuma shouted over Tricer’s mocking cries. Without his helmet Xisuma was low on code, and even as he shut his eyes and ones and zeroes flashed across his consciousness none lead to the stats of his Hermits or ways he could possibly improve them. Stress left Hypno’s side and grew a vine onto the roof to climb it, rushing over and crouching with them.

“Oh, I don’t know what to do!” She panicked, holding out her crown. “I, I haven’t healed anything this bad yet and I could do something wrong I don’t want to hurt him!”

The druid was grabbed by the shoulders by a Voidkind three feet taller than her. It was terrifying. “Stress, stop stressing. You can do this. I believe in your capabilities and I know-”

Above, Tricer let out an ear-piercing scream. Everyone who was able to covered their ears and crouched, waiting for void fire to fall with the rain, or frogs to come from the sky, or the world to split in two and separate the Hermits forever. Tricer let out a shrill laugh, diving down and tilting their head they used Grian’s voice. “Stress! I cannot _stress_ enough that there! is! no! time!”

The girl’s eyes widened as she was taken back to the Civil War the year before, running through the basement of the G-Team base with Grian and getting confused by the sheer amount of rooms. She began to tremble as tears welled in her eyes. Xisuma held her shoulders and snarled at Tricer, hissing lowly as they circled away again, giggling.

“Grian please!” Scar screamed from where he desperately tried to heal his friends with no proper healing spells. “We know you’re still in there!”

Dipping their wings, Tricer dove towards the Hermits with a taunting bird song. Everyone gasped and ducked, some throwing themselves over Tango, Doc, and Ren. Tricer reached into their robes and sprinkled the broken pieces of Grian’s communicator on the ground as they pulled up from the dive. “From Grian, who-totally-won’t-prank-you-some-day!”

It was a strange feeling when Scar realized just how foreboding his first meeting with Grian was. Him dying, Grian leaving a thinly veiled threat, and them parting without really having a conversation. The wizard moved away from the group, waving his arms and trying to lure Grian to him in a strange act of bravery. “Well come get me then!”

Tricer dove for Scar and the wizard yelped, because, well, he really didn’t expect that to work. He rolled into the lake with another sound of surprise. While his first plan was to swim back to the surface, Scar saw his crystals glowing in the sand of the lake and began to dive. The red and green pulsed together underneath the murky water, the rain causing ripples on the surface and leaving strange light patterns on the sand. Scar reached out for the crystals as his air began wearing out, making his head swim better then he was.

Above surface, Iskall shakily stood. He was covered in Mumbo’s blood, he was scuffed up from battle, the rain was getting in his cybernetics, and he looked utterly exhausted. “Grian?” he cried out into the rain. Tricer screeched and Iskall didn’t even flinch. “Grian!”

“You’re an architech! And a dragon bro! And, and a stinking hippie!” Iskall thought to what Mumbo had told him. When Iskall first ran through that portal and tackled Mumbo, they had been inseparable since. Mumbo caught Iskall up to speed of what had happened in the Overworld and Iskall explained the events of the Deep End. What Iskall really held onto, was how Mumbo told him about Grian doubting his place in Hermitcraft. “You started so many games! And everyone loves you! You’re a Hermit, you’ll always be a Hermit!”

Tricer screeched, turning on their wings sharply and diving for the slime shop.

Iskall stood brave. “What happened to Evo is playing out in front of you! But this time you can stop it! You can save Hermitcraft Grian! Snap out of it!” He begged.

Tricer yowled and tackled Iskall to the roof, wings spread as Xisuma pulled Mumbo and Stress to a safer distance away. “Shut up!”

The inventor gasped, face screwing up in pain as the force rattled through him. Tricer held him down by his shoulders and snarled in his face but as Iskall gasped for air he did his best not to panic. “Please, Grian. You’re my best bro. We’re all your friends and we know you’re in there. We know it.”

Below, Cub was heaving Scar up from the lake onto the shattered bridge. Cub gave Scar a tight hug as the wizard gasped for air, quivering as the cool air shocked through him. “The roof, the roof.” The wizard gasped, limping into the building. “Help me up, I have a plan.” He groaned. Cub frowned, but he locked his fingers together and gave Scar a boost onto the roof, pushing on his feet as the wizard heaved himself up and took in the scene.

Xisuma was holding Mumbo and Stress close behind the statue while Stress tried to heal Mumbo properly. Tricer was arched over Iskall, magic sparking on their hands. The once smooth ceiling was covered in claw marks and dark pools of blood that were running with the flood of rain falling over them. Making sure he didn’t make the hole Tricer had torn in the roof any bigger, Scar carefully rolled to the side and got to his knees. He tucked his luck crystal away in his pocket and gripped his healing crystal in a shaking hand as he began to creep up behind Tricer.

“You disgusting mortals know _nothing_ , your, your feelings control you!” Tricer growled, digging their claws into Iskall’s shoulders. The inventor jolted as the sharp magic flooded through him and the claws left him aching. Gritting his teeth and refusing to cry out, Iskall’s watery gaze fell on Scar crouched behind Tricer and his eyes went wide.

Of course, the Amendment over him noticed and jumped out of the way, backing towards the statue in the center of the roof. They hissed, spreading out their wings as Scar quickly helped Iskall to his feet and touched the healing crystals to his shoulders with two soft hums. Iskall took a shuddering breath and both the Hermits turned to Tricer who looked very conflicted and very upset.

No one wanted to move. Anything too fast could let Tricer tackle them, or get away again, and they were so perfectly pinned it felt like the Hermits could win this thing for the first time and maybe even save Grian.

“G-Man?” Scar said, voice small as he tried to laugh and held out his crystal. “I’m going to help you okay?”

“You stay _away_ from me, insolent mortal!” Tricer snarled, baring their teeth and letting golden magic spark in their palms. Behind the statue, Xisuma slowly stood up. Iskall made sure not to stare this time and instead took a small step forwards to keep Tricer’s eyes on him, even if he flinched when the Amendment snarled. Xisuma crept around the large hand-like structure and nodded to the Hermits before lunging at Tricer and wrapping an arm around their neck and another around their torso, pinning down their arms.

The Amendment screeched, defenseless in such a human body. Their clawed hands could only bat at Xisuma from this angle, trying and failing to tear his arms away as they uselessly beat their pinned wings and kicked their legs. “Now, now now now _NOW_!” Chanted the Admin, Tricer screeching their best ear-piercing scream as Scar dove forwards and pressed the healing crystal into their chest.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

While Grian fell to his knees, then to his side, and curled up as he began shaking, Speker remained in Xisuma’s hold. The Amendment screeched and snarled as the rain seared their skin and Xisuma wrestled them to the ground, pressing their face into the concrete. “You will _never_ hurt another mortal again.” Hissed the Admin into Speker’s ear.

“I am your _god_ ; you will suffer for your crimes-”

“Oh _shut up_!” Cleo moaned, holding up her hand. Her first edition _Statues_ was back in her hand. See, the zombie may have snuck through the still-open portal and into the Grand Hall where the Amendments were stupid enough to keep the Hermit’s stolen things. With it, she cast _Hold_ , and picked up Speker like they weighed nothing to drop them into the lake.

The next problem the Hermits faced was Grian. Iskall and Scar ran to their friend’s side and once making sure Speker was taken care of, Xisuma did too.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” The builder gasped, choking on tears as he covered himself with his wings lest his friends see him. He let out a whimper at Iskall peeling his wings away anyways and the man helped him sit up. Iskall took one look at Grian and wavered for a moment before pulling his friend into a tight hug.

“Don’t apologize,” Iskall whispered, accent made thicker with emotion. “I’m so happy you’re alive Grian.”

“Mumbo,” Grian whispered, eyes going wide with horror. “Mumbo, Mumbo, oh god!” He yelped, scrambling out of Iskall’s grip and running to where Stress had tried to heal the redstoner. Mumbo was not looking good. Stress had done everything she could to help, even stemming the bleeding, but the druid had no resurrection powers. Mumbo was pale and unmoving and Grian collapsed into his friend and began to wail.

The Hermits below couldn’t quite see what was happening, but they could hear the crying. Joe and Cleo were hurriedly trying to heal the mortally hurt Hermits, ignoring the sobs from the slime shop. False and TFC were trying to help too, but their medicine knowledge went no further than how to set a break. Hermit hopes we low at that time.

A truly heartbreaking scream erupted from the ceiling of the slime shop.

There was a long pause. The only sound was Grian’s broken sobs as the Hermits below paused too, unsure who had fallen but knowing someone had been lost. The shopping district felt emptier than it had when almost half of the Hermits were off in a different dimension. Xisuma looked over the edge of the roof of the shop to eye the Hermits below with a deep frown. Cleo sat next to Joe with a haunted look in her undead eyes and frowned at the friends next to her that refused to respawn.

Then Mumbo gasped, jolting in Grian’s arms.

Doc hissed when he sat up, shifting away from the Hermits in a moment of fear, but Beef threw himself on top of the creeper with a happy laugh. His arm no longer aching, Bdubs joined the hug pile with Etho, who’s ribs had decided to sit in his chest properly again.

Sitting up now that he felt could, Impulse began coughing, startled when Tango smacked him on the back and told him to work it out. With a cry of “head squish!!” Zed wrapped his arms around Tango and gave him a tight hug before throwing his arms around Impulse too.

Hypno and Ren laid flat on the ground taking deep breaths. “Ren the Kid lives to see another day.” Ren snorted, turning to Jevin to grin when the slime sat next to him, no longer dripping. “Thanks for the help, cownapper.” The cowboy smiled.

Among the happy flurry of the Hermits being healed, only Joe noticed Cleo fall onto her side as her green colour drained.

And yet above the happy chaos below, Grian held onto Mumbo for dear life on top of the slime shop, crushing the redstoner in his hug as the man dazedly hugged back. Mumbo let out a weak cough, drawing a shuddering breath in, and leaned further into Grian’s embrace. The four others on the rooftop watched before Iskall dove in, heaving Grian and Mumbo to their feet and gently putting them back down with his arms around their shoulders to hold them tight.

Blearily, Mumbo had to recognize that Grian was back to his normal height.

As that thought popped onto his head, Mumbo wrapped one of his arms around Iskall and gave the two men a tight hug. Grian choked on his tears and looked up at them, wiping at his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I am so sorry, I, I should have said something sooner, I should have warned everyone I-”

Below them, cheers were erupting from the Hermits. Xisuma had pulled Cub onto the roof with them and the older man barreled into his wizard friend for a hug. Since his arms were so much bigger, Xisuma rejoiced in the fact he could hug every Hermit on the roof at once, swaddling them up and squeezing them close. Grian stood in the center of the warm hug, relived tears slowly dripping down his face as he turned to give the Hermits close enough each a hug of their own.

Whatever Grian was now, with void magic pulsing through him, turned to Scar last. The wizard was on the verge of happy tears of his own, happy this was all over, and Grian hugged Scar tightly to speak into his shoulder where no one else would hear. “I knew you could do it. Thank you.”

The tears rolled and Scar snuffled into Grian’s shoulder before squeezing him back, both of them laughing as Stress began to coo over Grian’s wings and Cub smacked Scar so hard on the back the wizard wondered if his ribs fell out of place. One by one, Xisuma picked a Hermit up and flew them towards the rest of the Hermits, placing them safely on the mycelium.

On the ground the sight was very much the same to the roof. Now conscious with only a little bit of a cough, Tango was stuck under suffocating hugs from Impulse and Zed and a dog that had totally come out of no where. He was laughing though, clinging to his friends and giving the pooch belly scratches. Tango wrestled Impulse and Zed to sit with him instead of looming over him and gave xBCrafted and False his gratitude for trying to patch him up.

Now struggling to sit up, Ren cradled his ribs and tried to wave off TFC and Jevin when they pushed him back down. The man chuckled up at the sky and pushed his sunglasses properly off, letting the rain cool his skin as he fist-bumped Hypno. This would make a rad campfire story.

Since his machinery was still turned off and there was only about forty percent of it left, Doc was understandably groggy. When Iskall landed he promised to have Doc in his workshop once he could to fix him up, and Doc rolled his eyes when Bdubs took that as an opportunity to declare himself Doc’s nurse for the time being. Beef ruffled Doc’s hair and Etho handed him a bag of ice from… _somewhere_ for his head.

As Hermits were celebrating their friends not dying, Joe was celebrating his friend undying. Cleo sat on the dirt clutching her head, shining green eyes blinking wearily as she looked around the clearing. Joe crouched next to her with a hand on her back and Cleo could _feel_ it, the warmth of his hand and its pressure on her body. When she looked down to her hands, they were pink! Pink! Her fingernails were all intact and no bones were showing. The final test was a sharp tug on her hair. The girl grit her teeth, but the red hair didn’t fall out easily as it almost always did.

A few feet away, Xisuma had finished reconnecting the Hermits. Cleo and Joe looked over to see Grian holding himself stiffly, Mumbo standing with him. The man had a long pink scar over his throat and looked like he was about to fall off his feet, but he was alive. People were standing to embrace the redstoner in hugs and when Ren lunged to give his hippie brother a rad hand shake, Grian flinched back.

There was a nervous smile for a second but Ren jumped right back in for a proper hug. Cleo staggered to her feet with the help of Joe and the Hermits began to celebrate all over again, their friends back and finally safe. Once everyone had gotten the chance to give Grian a hug to make sure that, yeah, he really was there, they stopped to look at Xisuma.

The Voidkind Admin had been standing on the edge of the group, smiling at his friends. It had been an exhausting adventure and he was so, so glad to be home with everyone safe. He looked around the shopping district and how it had expanded in his absence. It felt good to know he was right when he trusted his lovely Hermits. The Amendment tower still loomed nearby but Xisuma knew he would be able to take it down now that the void magic he had gone so long without moved through him again. For the first time since the Jungle it felt like everything was going to be fine, that the world would turn out okay and the Hermits wouldn’t have to run from the next terror for a long time.

He gave the Hermits a nervous smile under their scrutiny.

“You’re not Ex, are you?” Asked Cleo, raising an eyebrow. The Hermits finally realized her very alive state and glanced at each other with uncertainty.

“He uh,” Xisuma shrugged and searched for a way to explain it. “he was really hurt. You guys needed a hand. We- I- I don’t really know how to put it- the decision was made to… reverse the whole separation spell I cast. And, well, you see the result!”

“You look _wild_.” Bdubs mumbled.

“It’s so cool.” Hypno agreed.

“We have two super… voidish… wild Admins!” Tango beamed.

“Of Doom!” Iskall added.

“Hold on,” TFC said, holding up his hand. “two?”

“Yeah,” Scar said, gesturing to Grian. “he’s an Admin too.”

Grian’s eyes widened and the shrank into himself more, laughing nervously. “That, that was a long time ago yenno, I don’t want to step on X’s toes, and Evo was such a different world-”

“Oh please tell me you’ll help.” Xisuma said, eyes wide. “I don’t have any of my code without my helmet, and I haven’t had void magic in so long, I’m going to be bonkers.”

“Two admins!” Zed cheered.

“Does this mean Bumbo will stop breaking the world with his redstone?” Keralis asked.

Mumbo smiled sheepishly and Grian and Xisuma glanced at each other. “I make no promises.” The two said at once, resulting in a loud round of laughter through the Hermits and their two new Admins.

\----------

The sky was clear and open as Grian cut through the jungle on giant golden wings. He landed on the ladder into Larry, knocking down the door and strapping it to his back. Even though Scar no longer lived in Larry he replaced the door, which cracked the Admin up endlessly. With two mighty flaps of his wings, Grian took off again and flew towards his mansion.

One half was finally completed. The gentle roar of redstone was lost under the thick grey walls but boomed out the open side. The builder was quite proud of the challenge he had presented himself and how much he had done in the short time he had been back from the Deep End. Underneath the prismarine roof Grian had spent so many diamonds on was a large, open window Grian could drift through into the attic which held his (surprisingly organized) storage system.

The Admin unloaded his inventory into the sorting machine and happily ran down onto the top floor where his machines were running, flipping the switch to turn them off so _he_ wouldn’t become the server menace. Speaking of the menace… Grian ran down all the way to his basement and threw Scar’s door into his Ultra Secret Door Room which consisted of mostly Scar’s doors.

Once the door was tucked away safely, Grian looked to the giant tunnel on the other side of the wall. He smiled and bolted down the large cavern, which had been measured several times to fit his wing span so he could fly down the tunnel right to Mumbo’s base. As Grian picked up speed and bounced around the corner he saw Mumbo peacefully walking towards him. “Oh no.” The flier squeaked before the two Hermits collided and collapsed to the floor.

After the groans ended, the two men looked at each other and started to laugh. Mumbo said back, staring at the ceiling of the tunnel to wheeze out the last of his giggles. “You know, I had a dream sort of like this when you went missing. It was much scarier. This is better.”

“Yeah,” Grian chuckled, sitting up and folding his wings behind himself. “walking through your dreamscape to send you that message was a nightmare.”

Mumbo flushed and stood, helping Grian to his feet. “I do not trust you with magic.”

“It’s been months!” Grian complained. “If anything, I’ve used it to benefit you! I have stolen so many doors with these wings.”

\----------

“I think I have a spare crystal in Larry.” Scar said, heaving himself up the ladder. “Oh for crying out loud- Cleo, you used to be a zombie, why do they keep taking my doors!”

The human smirked at her friend, walking up the ladder with the shake of her head. “Don’t know Scar, can’t talk to them anymore.”

“Oh it is such a nuisance do you know how expensive it is to make so many doors? I have to keep them in my K.G.O.O.M.D and it’s so much storage space.” Scar complained, but he dropped the subject there and began digging through the chests he left in Larry’s shell even though the snail wasn’t his main base. It took Scar only a moment to pull the crystals from a chest and lay them Cleo’s hands. “Here you go.”

“Thank you Scar!” Cleo beamed, pocketing the magic items. Xisuma had summoned more the crystals for Scar a while ago and the wizard never had use for them (expect for the green and blue ones) since there had been a long period of peace on the server.

All of which, was about to end.

“I’m so excited for Head Games,” Said the Master of Puppets. “I’ve waited so long to play and now we can finally start!”

“In Grian and X’s defence,” Scar said as he shut the lid and bolted it. “They were wary about the respawn. It would be pretty terrible if the PVP went wrong.”

“Pssh, whatever! I need to go announce that the game is starting.” Cleo smiled, bouncing out the door and flying away on her elytra. Scar chuckled at her mirth and climbed down the ladder before walking back to the platform behind Larry and in front of his new base. Cub was waiting for him, hands on his knees panting as his hand rested on the lever that activated the redstone clock.

“Sorry about that! Cleo needed a luck crystal.” Scar said, walking over the reopening _Master’s Melee Magic_ where he had left it on the ground. “You’re doing really good but you need to plant your feet. It’s all about confidence, magic, and if you let yourself go limp your spells won’t have enough power.” Scar explained, showing Cub the proper stance.

The two had agreed the Vex were… a bit too controlling after the events in the last few months. Having their bodies taken over by otherworldly entities no longer sounded fun and Cub suggested Scar teach him the magic the wizard had taught himself with no outside involvement. Scar had practiced more and more when he got home and Xisuma provided him with more and more books from his castle still in the Deep End, resulting in Scar finally becoming a master wizard. Even if his spells would obliterate the obsidian of the machine Cub had made him all those months ago, Cub’s beginner spells would be just enough to disable the machine without destroying it while practicing.

The two ConCorp members were truly a force to be reckoned with.

\----------

Stretching his arms high above his head, Doc shut his eyes and rejoiced in the lack of burning ache across his ribs. He tugged on his lab coat (which didn’t catch on the plates of his arm for once) and walked out of his half-house, peeking over the fence and smiling when he saw the lack of Bdubs.

Not that he hadn’t learned to love his annoying neighbor, Doc was just happy that Bdub’s real base was finally complete enough that the builder could safely sleep in it without waking Doc up at 3am because a creeper had snuck into Bdub’s bedroom and the man needed Doc to “creeper-talk it out of my house! C’mon man!”

The cyborg climbed up the mountain to where he was carving a goat head into the face of it, humming happily as he lugged up smooth stone and andesite to the place he was building. As Doc began shaping the neck of his goat head, Doc scowled. He couldn’t reach much higher without putting himself in danger and he was low on scaffolding. When the creeper searched his chests for more, or at least some bamboo and string, he found nothing but a few spider eyes. So, to the shopping district he flew.

It was a bustling acropolis at that point, the diamond pile so large it spilled off the platform. Grian’s stack of shops looked absolutely ridiculous and the island was running out of space at an alarming pace. Doc snorted and as he wondered the street, he struggled to find the bamboo shop. Was there one? He couldn’t remember.

“Doc!” Cried Iskall from Big Logz Inc’s blimp. “How’s the new cybernetics treating you!”

“Hey man!” Doc smiled, walking over and covering his creeper eye to look up at Iskall. “Going great! Doesn’t hurt anymore and I didn’t realize how much I’d miss colour.”

When Iskall only smirked at him, Doc knew something was wrong. Ren leaped onto Doc’s back and began laughing. “Whoo doggy, giddy up horsie, let’s go!”

Doc broke out laughing, catching Ren’s kicking leg’s and heaving the man higher onto his back. “Either of you know where the bamboo is?” He asked, rolling his eyes as Ren ruffled his hair and tried to make him move by digging his knees into the creeper’s side.

“Well lucky for you my friend, Big Logz Inc has recently come into partnership with Little Flowerz Shop!” Ren smiled, hopping down once he accepted his ride wasn’t going to take him much of anywhere. "So now we also sell flowers, vines, leaves, and of course, bamboo!” Chirped the human as he jumped on one of the pulley platforms. Iskall heaved him up and once both were comfortably balanced on the blimp they pushed a bright pink sign with that very name to lean over the wooden brackets that spelled Big Logz Inc. “See?”

“Good for you guys! Guess I might as well just hand my diamonds over to you.”

\----------

After all the ~family issues ~ in the Deep End had been solved, Tango wasn’t too excited to tell the Hermits he had more ~family issues~ in the Nether to work through. He disappeared for a few months like he had the year before and this time, Impulse didn’t need to track him through the Nether to drag him out, because Tango brought the Nether to Impulse.

“So uuh, this is usually only in the deepest pits of all of _hell_ , but after some diplomatic talks between demons and mortals…” Tango nervously explained before leading Zed and Impulse towards the Nether portal in Toon Towers. Team ZIT stepped through and Zed and Impulse wavered for a moment because _no way that’s the Nether and Tango hasn’t slipped us something._ Tango spread his arms, gesturing to the strange blue trees, the red grass in the distance, and the blue mist filling their lungs. “Welcome to the Deep Nether! Though… I guess it’s not that deep anymore.”

As Team ZIT marveled at the new type of world, False walked through the portal. “Impulse! I saw you come through here and I thought we could discuss our strategy for Head Games, uh, _oh my god_.” She gasped, looking around, slack-jawed like Team ZIT.

“Falsey!” Tango smiled, scratching the back of his neck. “uuh, you’re smart. How do I explain this to Xisuma and Grian? Xisuma will kill me.”

\----------

Xisuma did not kill Tango.

In fact, the Admin teleported himself to the Nether with a big smile. The oppressive heat made him shrink into himself and it was more uncomfortable than usual but it was absolutely gorgeous.

“Well… I might have to check this out for myself before I can deem it safe.” The Admin said. His prodigy stood next to him and nodded, wearing his stupid crooked glasses and weird fake mustache he wore whenever they were conducting ‘Admin Tasks’, as Grian dubbed it.

“Ah yes, yes, I totally agree…” The man murmured, peering into the mist. “So smart… big words… yes…”

“Are you even listening to me?” Xisuma asked with a smirk.

“I’m wondering what those pig-looking things are and if I can kill them.”

“Grian,” Xisuma sighed, patting the much shorter Admin on the wings. “what I’m saying is, its time for Interdimensional Adventure Two: Electric Boogaloo.”

“Oh.” Grian said, looking to Tango, who had been watching the Admin’s deliberate with his fingers deep in his mouth due to the exaggerated worry he could get in trouble for… being a demon? Xisuma thought his fears of being kicked out were a little unfair considering he was literally standing before another creature from another dimension. Xisuma pat the demon on the back and Tango let out a relieved sigh as he looked up at the part of his home he had been hiding for so long. The trickster who had been beside them grinned and took off, flying through the strange formation of the Nether grounds as he laughed and let the strange atmosphere surround him. “Let’s explore! Who’s coming?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to every single person who took the time out of their day to read this. To everyone who commented with support and criticism, it made my day to be able to interact with people reading my work. I had so much fun writing this and every comment and kudo encouraged me to work through periods of writer's block and overcome some doubts in the story line. I cannot express how glad that this work was received by such awesome people.  
> Expect more writing! I don't have anything in the works right now but that will change. If you want to hear about the Nether some more to continue on in this world, tell me! If you want some shorter one-shot sort of deals, let me know.  
> Thank you again. Stay safe out there and wash your hands!


End file.
